Winning is Everything
by What the Quell
Summary: Who hasn't wondered what it would be like to have looked forward to competing in the Hunger Games since birth? Career tributes have a purpose, and that purpose is to win. This is the Hunger Games from Clove's POV. First installment of Vicious. *COMPLETE*
1. The Volunteer

Chapter One: The Volunteer

The very best part about the reaping is that I can sleep in.

On a normal morning, I'm training with Brutus by 5:00. It's the same every day. For ten hours, I train, because that's who I am. Out of everyone in District Two, I'm by far the most dedicated to my dream.

This year, I, Clove Flair, am going to win the Hunger Games.

Maybe I should be frightened. But there's really no point. There are only two possible outcomes of the Games: I win, or I die. If — no, when — I win, everyone will be proud of me. I'll have a nice house and pretty dresses and everything else I want.

But if I die, there won't be anything to worry about regardless.

I roll over in my bed, still half asleep. It's so nice, not having to even think about getting out of bed until almost 7:00. The reaping doesn't start until 8:30.

Still, I really ought to get up. Basil Shay's sneering face is what finally convinces me to drag myself out of bed and into the kitchen. Basil, who was my best friend when I was very little, knows I'm going to volunteer this year. And after our fallout ten years ago, she'll do anything to kill my dream.

And I can't let that happen.

To be able to volunteer for the Games, I have to be both the fastest and the prettiest. That really only matters if there are others who are going to try to steal my spotlight, but who cares? None of them could hope to compete with me.

"Mother!" I call out. "I'm up!"

My mother walks into the kitchen to stand next to me. Let me just say that she is really the most amazing person in the world, and it's definitely not because of her sunny personality. Actually, she can be one of the meanest people I know. But she's a victor. My mother won the forty-seventh Hunger Games when she was just fifteen. She wanted me to volunteer, to win, at the same age, and I honestly tried. But someone else beat me to it.

This is my second-to-last chance to go to the Capitol and win the Games. I'm seventeen now, and I don't want to risk waiting another year, because then it could be too late. Besides, next year is the Quarter Quell, and who knows how that will affect the odds?

Now my mother is just standing in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee and looking at me critically.

"What?" I ask somewhat defensively.

"You look terrible," she says. I want to sink through the floor. "Go. Get dressed and do your hair."

I put thoughts about my mother out of my head as I step into my new dress. It's white and silky with light green thread that forms an intricate pattern at the bottom few inches of the skirt. Then I tie a pale pink ribbon around my waist, and I'm almost perfect.

I spend the next half-hour styling my long dark hair into perfect curls. When I'm satisfied, I walk back into the kitchen to find my mother cleaning the dishes. When she sees me, she gives me a half-smile and nods her head in approval.

!

Ten minutes later, I find myself in between my parents, arriving at the square. Heads turn our way. My dad is a victor too, though not as well-respected as my mother. While my mother won her Games seemingly with neither effort nor feeling, my dad nearly lost to a puny little girl from District Ten. In the end, though, he managed to overpower her.

We make it to the reaping just in time, although I've never really understood why it's necessary to listen to Mayor Galbroh recite the history of Panem. We all know what happened.

Apparently there used to be some place called North America. There was a war, though, that tore it apart. Our country, Panem, was created after a lot of disasters, both natural and manmade. Panem used to be a Capitol that was surrounded by thirteen districts, but during the Dark Days — the rebellion of the districts against the Capitol — District Thirteen was destroyed. Now, as punishment, the remaining districts are forced to compete every year in the Hunger Games.

I listen to Mayor Galbroh say all this without anything really registering. I've heard it too many times before. Instead I let my mind wander, thinking about what my strategy will be, to ensure that I'm the first volunteer. I'm not too worried. Then I start to think about who my competition will be.

In most of the districts, the Hunger Games are what they were intended as: a horrible punishment. That's because their tributes almost never stand a chance. In the Games, each district provides two tributes, a boy and a girl, age twelve to eighteen. They then compete in the Hunger Games, where they fight to the death. It's thrilling, especially when it comes down to the final five or so tributes. The fights are epic, and it's best when, of course, someone from District Two wins.

Finally, Mayor Galbroh finishes his repetitive speech. He ends by reading the list of previous victors from District Two. People glance at me when my parents' names are called. I smirk back at them. Our district has had fifteen victors so far, and I will be the sixteenth.

Then the mayor introduces our escort, Sparkle Trix. Today her hair is a shockingly vivid purple, and she's wearing a suit that is a sickly green color. She bounces from her chair into a standing position, and practically skips to the podium.

"Isn't this exciting!" she exclaims, more making a statement than asking a question. "The day has finally arrived, it's time to pick our lucky tributes for the seventy-fourth Hunger Games!"

The huge crowd – the entire population of District Two – screams assent. I feel my lips turning up into a dangerous smile as I tense, ready to push through the whole crowd if it comes to that.

I'm not letting my mother down again.

Sparkle Trix skips to the reaping ball that holds the name of every girl in District Two that is applicable for the Hunger Games. I cross my fingers but don't close my eyes. That could cost me precious time if I have competition.

Sparkle draws a slip of paper from the massive glass ball and crosses back to the podium. At this point my heart is pounding in my throat; my name can't be drawn. If it is, I'll have no chance. Someone will volunteer for me in a heartbeat, and the reaping winner can't refuse a volunteer. It's in the rules. I can't be chosen.

"Arriah Elloy!"

I don't allow myself to feel any relief, to feel anything at all but determination. I push my way through everyone who stands between me and the stage, not stopping until I'm right in front of Mayor Galbroh and Sparkle Trix. I shout out, "I volunteer! I volunteer!"

Arriah Elloy is staring daggers at me. I can't help smiling smugly at her. I've finally done it—I'm going to be a tribute! Except the mayor hasn't said anything…

My brief moment of concern passes when Sparkle beams at me. "Excellent! Come on up." I giddily climb the stairs onto the stage. I did it.

Giddiness turns to elation when I see Basil Shay's furious expression. Ha. She looks like she'd happily kill me right now if she had the chance. My grin is impossibly wide as I picture her getting her throat ripped out by Enobaria Klu, one of our previous victors. Enobaria also happens to be mentoring this year—I get a glimpse of her pointy gold teeth as I walk as calmly as I can manage to Sparkle, who beams at me again. She looks as thrilled as I feel.

"What's your name?" she asks.

"Clove Flair," I say happily.

"Well, you look very excited to be here, Clove, and I know we're all looking forward to watching you in the Games." She turns to the crowd and cries, "Let's give a big round of applause to Clove Flair, our newest tribute!"

Most people cheer (the exceptions being some of the other girls who hoped to gain a spot in the Games), and the sound is honestly more bloodthirsty that supportive. I'm momentarily caught off guard as I realize that none of them will really care if I die. But I brush the thought away; of course I won't die. I'll win, and they'll all adore me.

I've made it through the hardest part: earning a spot in the Games. I stand before my people in my pretty white dress, and confidence surges through me.

I will win.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, I'm really excited about this story. I'm not sure why I decided to write it, but Clove has always been my favorite Career... again, I don't know why. Anyway, I started writing this a while ago, before I made my account, and I have eight chapters done (they get longer, don't worry). I'm going to update about once a week, but it'll be more if I get good reviews! :)<strong>

**Yes, review, please!**

**~What the Quell**


	2. The Hardest Part

Chapter Two: The Hardest Part

Standing on the stage, I nearly forget that of course I won't be the only one who will be representing District Two.

"And now, it's time to find out who our boy tribute will be!" trills Sparkle. She crosses over to the other reaping ball, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the stage. She digs around for a few seconds, and pulls out a name. I'm focused again now—this person will either be my ally or adversary. Probably both.

"R—"

"I volunteer!" The cry comes from the middle of the eighteen-year-old section. It's a voice that sounds familiar, but I can't be sure until he comes forward. And then I see him, pushing his way forward, a triumphant expression on his face.

Cato Vripah.

Oh God. I'm so dead.

My hands start to shake. I know Cato. He's probably the strongest person in our district, at least out of those eligible for the Games. He's not as talented as me with knives, but he's absolutely deadly with a spear.

I take a deep breath and force my face to arrange itself back into a smile. I can't afford another lapse like that. I can handle Cato. Yes, he's formidable—but he has some other issues. It's not that he's actually _mental_ or anything, but he sometimes acts like it. The doctors have a name for what he has, but I can never remember it. Cato has concentration issues, and he often lets his temper get away from him. Because of this, I'll be able to beat him.

Still, I can't entirely keep myself from staring at Cato somewhat fearfully as he mounts the stage and takes his place beside me. Mayor Galbroh reads the Treaty of Treason, same as every other year, then motions for Cato and me to shake hands. Then the anthem plays, and we are escorted to the Justice Building by a small group of Peacekeepers. We have an hour to say goodbye to our friends and family before we leave for the Capitol.

The room I'm conducted to is amazing, to say the least. I mean, I live in District Two, it's not like I've ever been deprived of anything, really, but this place… I would kill to live here. Maybe I will.

I'm jolted out of my reverie when my parents walk in the room. They have very different expressions on their faces. Dad always says that his Games were the worst days of his life; he hadn't expected that when he volunteered. Mother, however, felt exactly the opposite. And in her sharp features I could see an emotion that I never thought she would direct at me. Pride.

Mother immediately runs to me and hugs me. "Good job, Clove," she whispers into my ear. "I know you can win. You're smart, you're brave, and you're very talented."

Dad starts talking strategy. "Remember, when you're training, there are two different approaches you can take. You can show everyone exactly how talented you are, or you can hold back. Enobaria will know what the best thing for you to do is." I nod.

"Make sure you have allies," Mother cuts in. "It's going to be your best shot. I know Cato is a little… unstable, but ally with him too. He's strong and determined."

Right. I'll be part of the Career pack, as other districts have named the strongest tributes (traditionally those of us from One, Two, and Four). Some Careers resent the nickname, but I think it's perfect. We've been training for this since we could walk; it's our career choice.

Dad interrupts my train of thought. "Get as much sleep as you can in the next week, because you want to be as alert as possible in the arena. You never know when an ally could turn on you, especially when there are only a small number of tributes left."

They go on like this for the next half hour, cramming my head full of strategies and warnings. Then a Peacekeeper knocks on the door to signal that our time is up. Mother actually hugs me again, and says, "I'm so proud of you, Clove. Never forget it." Dad hugs me, too, and I pretend not to notice that his hazel eyes are moist.

"I love you both," I tell them confidently. "I'll see you soon." Then they're gone.

I lean my head back and exhale. That was exhausting. Of course, I knew that would happen, that both my parents would drill me with information one last time. I thought I had been prepared, but really… I'm glad that's over.

A Peacekeeper suddenly pokes her head around the door. "Someone else here to see you," she says.

I nod, but my eyebrows rise involuntarily. Who else would bother?

Then my next visitor struts in, and my face twists into a disgusted expression. It's Basil Shay.

"Why are you here?" The words leave my mouth before I give them permission. But come on, this girl hates me. I hate her. What is she doing? As if hers is the last face I want to see before I'm carted off to the Capitol.

Basil glares at me. "Well, you haven't changed much, have you?" she snaps. "Can't a girl come say goodbye to her old best friend before that friend dies?"

"I'm not going to die," I snarl. "If you're here to rub something in my face then I'll have the Peacekeepers escort you out. _What do you want?_"

Basil bites her lip. "Um…" She's stalling.

I roll my eyes. So she still does that? "Look, Basil, I have better things to do with my time than listen to you. Tell me what you want or _get out_."

"Fine!" Basil exclaims. "I want you to die so Cato can come home please!"

I freeze. Then I'm yelling at her. "What the hell, Basil? You really think I'm going to, what, commit suicide or something so some guy I don't even know can come back home? Right." I glare at her.

"You don't get it!" Basil cries. "Cato… he's my friend. I don't want you to die, either, Clove, I swear. But ever since we kind of stopped talking, I've been friends with Cato. And I really, really couldn't stand it if I lost _another_ friend to the Hunger Games."

Two years ago, Elia Madd was killed by some girl from District Six in the Hunger Games. Elia had been really close to Basil… I'd totally forgotten.

I hesitate, then shake my head. "I'm really sorry, Basil… but you know I can't do that. So you know, though, if I can't win then I know Cato will."

Basil looks heartbroken. "I get it, Clove. I guess I just couldn't help asking." She looks towards the door. "I gotta go." Then she trudges past the Peacekeepers and, I assume, leaves the Justice Building.

I can't help feeling a little smug. For years, Basil Shay has been the bane of my existence. And now, I can finally get her back by taking Cato from her. I'll be happy to kill him myself, if it comes to that, just to make her miserable.

No one else comes to visit me. I don't care, and I know why anyway. I don't have a lot of friends, but the ones I do have know that saying goodbye would be completely unnecessary since I'll be back home in a few weeks anyway. We all know that. Except maybe Basil… and Cato.

I stare around the room until the rest of the hour is up. Then the Peacekeepers take me to the train station, where Cato and I will be spending the time it takes to get to the Capitol.

It won't take long to get to the Capitol; District Two is very close. Then, in a matter of days, we'll be in the arena. And I can't wait.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you liked it! From now on the chapters are going to be a lot longer... I kind of wanted to get through the reaping quickly so that I could get to the Games themselves. By the way, Doc Manager is irritating me... when Basil asks Clove to die so Cato can come home, that first sentence (I want you to die so Cato can come home please) is supposed to be written as one word... because she's supposed to be speaking as fast as she can. It just makes more sense that she'd add 'please' at the end, to me anyway. Just thought I'd mention that. Thanks for reading, and please review!<strong>

**~What the Quell**


	3. New Home, Please

Chapter Three: New Home, Please

I've made a decision: I love the Capitol.

More importantly, they love me. Well, I'm a tribute – of course they do. But being a Career tribute, I'm even better than the rest of them, so naturally I'm more popular with the audience. Oh, I can't wait to try out the knives in the training center. On the train, Enobaria decided that intimidation is the best approach for me.

"You made it obvious at the reaping that you've been looking forward to this your whole life," she said when Cato left to talk strategy with Yoh, his mentor. "There's no way you could pull off any sniveling little girl act. You're the best – act like it."

Excellent. I won't have to hold anything back.

I'm snapped back to the present when my prep team finishes drying my hair. "Oh, Clove, you look fabulous!" squeals Loionia. "You'll be able to win the Games with your looks alone!"

"I can't wait to see what you look like when Maio dresses you up for the opening ceremonies," gushes Quen.

"Yes, he'll be able to make your hair especially look amazing," says the last member of the team, Amako. "You'll win the crowd over with no effort!"

I barely stop myself from rolling my eyes. As great as my prep team is – and really, the only reason they're great is that they're complimenting me and making me look amazing – they're three of the strangest human beings I've ever seen. Loionia has bright pink hair and burnt orange skin, and her eyes look like they've been surgically enlarged. It's disturbing. Quen is tiny, and her entire body is an abnormal shade of violet. Amako might be the weirdest of them all, though. His hair has been ripped out and replaced with flowers of every color, which stick straight up. The rest of his body, clothes included, is a light brown shade that resembles dirt. The strangest part, though, is the watering can that is attached to his back. It's constantly watering the flowers and pouring mud down his back.

"Let's call Maio," says Quen excitedly. "I can't wait any longer to see what Clove looks like for the ceremonies!"

Ten minutes later, my stylist enters the room. He's not quite as odd as my prep team – white hair, bright blue skin, and cat whiskers – but he's _old_, which is definitely weird.

"So, Clove," he begins. "District Two's job is designing clothing, correct?"

"Yes," I confirm.

"Fabulous. Your costume for the opening ceremonies is not going to be overly complicated. Because Two designs clothes, you and Cato are simply going to be dressed in outfits that compliment you – figure, hair color, eyes, you get the idea."

I nod. I may have spent nearly every waking moment of my life so far training with Brutus, but I also live in District Two. I know about fashion. Maio's idea is actually pretty smart; sometimes tribute costumes are overdone, which looks ridiculous.

"Excellent," Maio says happily. "Let's get started, then."

An hour later, I'm perfect.

The more I wear pink and green, the more I like the way it looks on me. Maio has dressed me in a simple, light green dress with spaghetti straps. My hair is curled in a way similar to the way it was at the reaping, but this time half of it is piled elegantly on top of my head. There is also a crown of pink flowers that circles my hair, and high heels the same color as the flowers.

"Finished!" Maio cries excitedly. I stare into the mirror, delighted. Maio may be strange, but he's made me look amazing. "Oh!" he exclaims. "I almost forgot!" The stylist produces a pretty gold necklace that has a simple charm – a four-leaf clover (I love Maio more every second). Then he hands me two earrings – gold, with a diamond in the center – and I put them on immediately.

I grin at my reflection. I thought I looked great at the reaping, but honestly, that was nothing compared to what Maio has transformed me into. And right now, I decide that when I win the Games, I want Maio to teach me to design clothes like these. Maybe someday, I'll even be a stylist for the Games – the first ever from a district…

I turn to Maio. "Thank you!" I say, ecstatic. "I look amazing! I'll have so many sponsors, I owe you big time…"

Maio smiles at me. "Anytime, Clove," he says. "If you like this, you'll absolutely love your outfit for your interview!"

I start to ask what it is, but then I think that maybe I'll like being surprised.

Instead, I ask the question that I've been thinking about ever since our train pulled into the station here. "Maio… do the victors get a choice… on where they live… after?" I'm not usually so hesitant, but if the answer is no, I think I'd rather hear it later rather than sooner.

To my surprise, Maio laughs. "Of course they do. Clove, when you're a victor, there are no restrictions. You can have everything you want – whenever, wherever. Hell, if you wanted to live in District Twelve, you could even do that – not," he shuddered, "that I'd recommend it. But really," he says kindly, "you'd probably want to stay in District Two."

"No!" I exclaim! I'm still processing the fact that I really could spend the rest of my life in the Capitol. "I mean, no, I love the Capitol! If I really could stay here forever, I would. It's amazing, you're so lucky you get to live here!"

Maio smiles at me. "Well, Clove, there is no doubt in my mind that you can win these Games. Did you watch the recap of the reapings last night?"

I shake my head. Enobaria had watched them while I got a good night's sleep – taking Dad's advice – and she had said that there was no one worth worrying about.

My stylist grins at me. "Well, come on, then," he insists. "I think you should. Then you'll see how truly _easy_ this is going to be for you, and when you beat them, you can stay here – or anywhere – for as long as you like."

Maio takes me to a large room with a television and a large sofa, and we sit down. "They replay the reapings in the Capitol a few times the day after them every year," he tells me. "It should start in just a few minutes."

I'm surprised by the fact that I actually feel a bit… nervous. The feeling is so new to me, it takes a moment before I can even identify it. And when I do, I'm absolutely horrified. _No!_ I think hurriedly. _Of course I'm not nervous! It's just… excitement, seeing all these puny little wimps that I'm going to have the pleasure of killing soon. I'm not nervous in the least. Nothing to be nervous about. I'm going to win, I'll be fine._

I breathe out a sigh of relief. Of course, I'm not nervous. I don't know where that even came from. _I've never been good at identifying emotions,_ I reason with myself. _That's all. I was just excited, and I didn't realize it at first._

The reapings come on, and my thoughts are interrupted. A strange-looking woman with light pink skin and bright yellow, very spiky hair appears on the screen. "Good afternoon, Panem! I'm Johi Tol, here to show you our last recap of the reapings for the seventy-fourth Hunger Games! We'll begin with District One."

And that's when I start to learn about the competition. I make myself notice every possible detail about each tribute. The girl from One – Glimmer – is too pretty to possibly be smart. Her boy counterpart – Marvel – volunteers quickly, but it looks like there's fear in his eyes. But I'm distracted when District Two is on screen, because I look amazing: proud, strong, confident, and of course, beautiful. Cato, I notice, looks slightly mad.

The tributes all start to blur together after the first few districts, despite my best efforts. Some stand out. The boy from Three looks scared, but like he might be quite brainy. The girl from Five looks sly, but I can sense fear radiating from her. The girl from Eight looks like even more of an idiot than that Glimmer, and the boy from Ten has a limp.

None of these worry me. They all look scared, vulnerable, and unwilling to compete. It almost makes me mad, that they've received such an honor and don't want to participate! It's so frustrating.

Finally, only Eleven and Twelve are left. The girl from Eleven is tiny, and when she steps onto the stage I shake my head. As much as I love the Games, it almost seems sad. Someone older could have had this honor, and no one bothered to volunteer.

Frankly, the boy from Eleven is a bit scary. He's unbelievably huge, although he looks like he can't string two words together. Still, that doesn't mean he's not dangerous.

Finally, the only district left is Twelve. When a tiny twelve-year-old is called, I roll my eyes. "What's the bet she allies with Little Eleven?" I ask Maio scornfully. But before the stylist can respond, an older girl pushes through the crowd.

"Prim!" she yells. "Prim!"

And then the new girl does something that is virtually unheard of in District Twelve.

She volunteers.

I raise my eyebrows. A volunteer from _Twelve_? How strange. I try to figure out why this could have happened – usually the tributes from this pathetic district break down and cry when their names are called, at the very least. The two girls look nothing alike, so I doubt they're related. Not that that ever means anything when it comes to the Hunger Games.

But the girl – Prim – is trying to keep the older girl from getting on the stage. She's yelling her name now, it sounds like Katniss – what a strange name – and Katniss is forcing her away.

Then an older boy – who does look like he could be related to the new tribute – walks up to the two girls and holds Prim back. Then he says something to Katniss that the cameras don't pick up, and she gets on the stage.

The escort looks thrilled. Well, I guess this is as exciting as Twelve's reapings ever get. The escort – wow, she looks even stranger than Sparkle Trix – speaks into the microphone. "What's your name?"

"Katniss Everdeen," the girl says, sounding as if she's very scared but trying not to show it. I try to remember Prim's last name, but I wasn't really paying attention because names are hardly relevant in the Games.

But when Katniss and the escort confirm that Prim is her sister, I'm shocked. Since when does anyone – let alone someone from Twelve, of all places – volunteer for a family member? The escort mentions something about Katniss not wanting Prim to steal all the glory – maybe that's it? The whole situation is very strange.

I don't understand what happens next at all. Everyone in the square touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out to Katniss. She looks like she's going to cry.

I'm too busy thinking about this to notice what else is said and done for a few moments. I do spare the boy chosen from Twelve a glance when his name – which I don't register – is called. This one looks like he could be related to Prim; they have the same blonde hair and blue eyes. The fear in the boy's eyes is obvious, though, and despite the fact that he looks strong, I immediately mark him as an easy kill.

Maio flips off the TV. "See?" he says. "Nothing to worry about. You'll be perfectly fine."

I nod to show that I agree. Really, I hadn't noticed anyone that looked like much of a threat. Actually, it looks like the person who will be the biggest threat to me will be none other than Cato himself.

Maio interrupts my thoughts. "Come on," he says, pulling me to my feet. "We need to get you and Cato to the City Circle."

Another hour later, I'm standing on my chariot next to Cato. I don't even look at him – he's worthless. This is all about me.

The opening ceremonies finally begin, and the District One tributes enter the Circle. I have to admit that they look pretty nice, but of course, they're nothing compared to me.

Suddenly, the shock of what's going on hits me. _I'm going to be in the Hunger Games,_ a voice in my head says, stunned. Then the more natural reaction: _This is amazing!_

At some silent cue, our horses – which are light gray – pull us into the Circle. Immediately, all eyes are on us. I smile and wave and occasionally wink at the audience, very enthusiastically. It's clear that they love us – well, probably not Cato so much. But he doesn't matter. All that matters is that I look fantastic and that all eyes are on me.

I lazily brush away a lock of hair that has fallen into my eyes._ Really,_ I think, _this is too easy._ And then the District Twelve chariot enters the Circle.

My first thought: _Oh, good – someone finally set them on fire!_

My second thought: _Shit!_

I bite my lip, trying to stop a stream of profanities – which by no means ended with _shit_ – from escaping me. Because the tributes from Twelve look… amazing. More than amazing. The audience is going crazy, screaming their names. Katniss and the boy – whose name I still don't know – look exactly as the perfect tributes would.

And I hate them for it.

Then, I notice. They're holding hands. Is there something going on between them? I look at Katniss – though her hand is still grasping the boy's, she's barely sparing him a glance. Is this an act, then? I look at the boy, and I immediately retract that though. Because he's looking at her as though she's the most amazing thing in the world.

?

The rest of the opening ceremonies go by in a blur. I will the time to speed up, wanting desperately to talk to Enobaria. She'll know what this means, and what to do. She's been mentoring the tributes from Two for ten years – she insists on taking the job every time, wanting the glory of mentoring a victor – and watched the Games for her whole life before that. Enobaria, surely, will know the best thing for me to do.

It's such a relief to finally step onto the elevator. It's a short ride up to the second floor, and I turn, preparing to go find my mentor. But someone stops me.

"Cato?" I hiss. "What do you want?"

Cato glares at me. "God, Clove, you're impossible. I need to talk to you."

I stare at him in disbelief. "About what?"

"Twelve," he says shortly, and I understand.

"Oh. Yeah," I agree. "They could be a problem."

"Exactly," Cato scowls. "Listen, Clove. Like it or not, we're going to be allies in the arena. It's tradition. In addition to that, one of us is going to win these Games. And since we're going to be allies anyway, we might as well figure out a game plan as soon as possible."

I look at Cato, seeing reason in his words. What the hell? This is _Cato_. There's never any reason. But I suppose he's prepared for this, so maybe the best thing to do is just to trust him, for now…

No. Not trust. If there is one thing that is nonexistent in the Hunger Games, it's trust.

Finally, I nod. "Fine. Did you notice how they were holding hands?"

Cato narrows his eyes, clearly disgusted. "Yeah. What do you think?"

"Well," I say slowly, "at first I thought it was an act. She barely even looked at him. But then I looked at his face, and no one can act that well. It's for real."

Cato frowns. "I don't like them. Either one of them. She's too fake and he's too real. There's obviously something going on, but I can't figure it out."

I look at Cato again, critically this time. He looks like he's concentrating very hard; it's kind of funny, actually. "Maybe it's a trick? Maybe she's just a really bad actor, and he's a good one," I say.

He shrugs. "I don't know. We have training tomorrow, though. We'll keep an eye on them, see what they act like away from the audience."

"We could try spying," I suggest. "Try to hear what they're saying…"

Cato nods, agreeing. "Good idea. I'm not going to have some puny tribute from Twelve be a threat to me," he scoffs. "That would be shameful."

I remember my dad, almost losing his Games to that little girl from Ten. _That won't happen to me,_ I swear silently to myself. I'm going to make them proud – Dad, Mother, Enobaria, Brutus. How am I going to do that if I even give the slightest hint that the tributes from Twelve pose a threat to me – worry me, even? It would be a complete disgrace to my entire district.

Then I consider how wise it would be of me to ally with Cato. Truthfully, I know I don't really have a choice. Because besides him, I'll be with that idiot, Glimmer, the scared boy, Marvel, and the tributes from Four… sadly, I failed to pay attention to them while watching the recap of the reapings with Maio.

_He's probably my best shot,_ I think regretfully. _Since he's the biggest potential threat to me, the smart thing to do would be to make myself his ally, not his enemy… as far as he knows._ I remember an old saying from before the war, one that Dad taught me. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

"I agree," I say quietly. "So, allies?" I hold out my hand, an offer.

He shakes it, and the alliance is sealed.

For now.

* * *

><p><strong>Review, please! :)<strong>

**~What the Quell**


	4. Allies

Chapter Four: Allies

I wake up feeling oddly wary, and I'm momentarily confused as I try to remember why.

Then it hits me – I've just allied, officially, with Cato.

My stomach lurches uncomfortably. For the life of me, I can't decide whether or not that was a smart move. I mean, yes, he's from my district, so I can probably trust – for lack of a better word – him more than anyone else here. But honestly, what if he betrays me? Kills me in my sleep? Here and now, I decide not to sleep at all in the arena. I'll pretend to, sure, but I'm _not_ going to sleep.

I glance at the clock next to my bed and groan when I see that it's three in the morning. No wonder I was so disoriented at first. I sigh and roll over, hoping to fall back asleep. If I'm going to be awake the entire time in the arena, I need to be as rested as possible. Besides, thinking about Cato and even the Games is probably a bad idea this early in the morning.

When I wake up again, I feel much better. I look at the clock – it's eight. Smiling slightly, I crawl out of bed and see that an outfit has been set out for me. I pull on the black pants and olive green tunic, and slip on the pale pink headband. Looking in the mirror, I grimace. My hair looks awful. I pull open all the drawers in my room and, finding a brush, hastily yank it through my dark curls. When I'm more or less happy with it, I step into the black tennis shoes that are waiting for me by my door and walk into the dining room.

Enobaria is waiting for me. "Good, you're up," she says briskly. "Grab some food; we need to go over your strategy for training."

I quickly fill a plate with scrambled eggs and a muffin, then grab a glass of orange juice. I sit down purposefully in front of my mentor. I didn't get a chance to talk to her last night, I was too preoccupied thinking about my new alliance with Cato and those awful District Twelve tributes.

"All right," she says while I shovel food into my mouth. "So we've already decided that you need to, to put it simply, be yourself. Don't waste too much time at stations that you aren't that good at. Stick with the knives mostly, and make sure that everyone knows that you never miss your target. _Scare them._ And you don't need to be with Cato the whole time, of course, but don't associate yourself with any tributes except for those in your alliance – One, Two, and Four, naturally."

I nod to show that I understand. Mother pretty much gave me this same speech after the reaping, and both my parents have drilled it into me for years prior to this. I could go through training in my sleep, if I had to.

Cato and Yoh enter the room, and I catch Cato's eye. He raises his eyebrows questioningly, as if to ask if we're still allies. The moron – did he really expect me to change my mind overnight? Regardless, I give him a nod to show that we're still good. He fills up a plate with food and sits down across from me, with Yoh next to Enobaria.

I struggle to stifle a laugh at Enobaria's disgusted expression. She detests Yoh; that much is obvious. Normally Brutus always mentors, sharing Enobaria's reasons. But this year he stayed back, for whatever reason. This irritated me at first – it would have been nice to have him as a mentor. Then I thought about it some more, though, and realized that, for one thing, he would have been mentoring Cato, not me. That would have been a problem. Plus, he deserves a break anyway.

Yoh won the Games three years ago. He killed the other tributes by strangling them, which to be honest was pretty horrible to watch. As much as I love the Games, _ugh_. A lot of people in Two think he did it to impress Enobaria, which everyone finds funny.

Just then, Maio and Cato's stylist walk into the room. They sit down, and then everyone is more or less screaming at Cato and me.

"You were amazing!" cries Maio. I had gone straight to bed last night, and hadn't gotten a chance to see my fabulous stylist. "That was so perfect. No one – no one else could even be compared to you!"

I exchange an exasperated look with Cato – that'll take some getting used to. But really, was Maio blind? Had he _seen_ Twelve?

Either way, I need to thank him. "Oh, I hardly had to do anything," I say dismissively. "It was you who made it perfect! You're right, it was amazing. They loved m—us!" I suppose I'm obligated to say 'us' now, as weird as it is.

Enobaria clears her throat, and I realize that she and Yoh haven't said anything. Wow – was it really just the stylists making all that noise? Yikes. People from the Capitol, honestly…

"Yes, yes, it's all very nice, but we only have so much time before training and Clove and I need to discuss her strategy, so if you'll excuse us…"

Cato glances at me. I shrug. Might as well get this out of the way. "Well, Enobaria," I begin hesitantly, "we were noticing the tributes from Twelve last night, and Cato and I talked about it, and we think we should focus on eliminating them. They could have a lot of sponsors, they could be dangerous. We've already confirmed the alliance," I add. "There's no need to train us separately until the interviews, really."

Enobaria and Yoh look at each other and shrug simultaneously. "Sure," says Yoh. "You're probably right. The last time someone from Twelve made that big a splash at the opening ceremonies, they won. Haymitch Abernathy, remember?" When everyone stares at him, he flushes an ugly maroon color. "I've watched the tapes, all right?" he says defensively.

Enobaria rolls her eyes. "Sure, Yoh," she mutters. Then she turns to Cato and me. "Okay, Twelve," she says. "To be perfectly honest, I doubt they're going to be much of a threat. The boy, at least, Peeta, is obviously not skilled." _So that's his name,_ I think. "The girl might be a bigger problem. She looks very determined, and obviously the crowd loved her." I scowl at the floor. "She's quite small, though," my mentor points out. "I think you should do your best to take her out at the bloodbath, get rid of her early on so you don't have to worry about her later."

Sounds good to me. I turn to Cato. "I want to kill her," I say bluntly. I don't know why, but I really hate this girl. Maybe it's because she stole my spotlight at the opening ceremonies. Maybe I just don't want anyone who could be threat, even a small one, in the picture.

Cato frowns. "Everyone's going to want to kill her," he points out. "You saw them. Usually Twelve just blends in, and no one worries about them. This year they stand out, and none of the other tributes will like that."

Yoh nods, agreeing. "That's true. It might be too dangerous for you to focus on this Katniss. You can't be distracted. I think that if you have an opening to kill her, go for it, but don't go out of your way to eliminate her, especially if it means leaving your back unprotected."

I glare at them. "It'll be more dangerous to risk letting her live! I can tell that she's dangerous. And we can't risk _not_ killing her if she's a threat at all."

Enobaria stares at me, clearly thinking hard. Finally, she speaks. "You have three days of training coming up. Watch her. See what this girl is capable of. When the scores come out, we'll have a good idea of whether or not she's worth focusing on."

God, I'm glad Enobaria is my mentor. She's a genius.

Maio glances at his watch. "It's almost ten," he says. "Clove and Cato should get downstairs."

Immediately, all thoughts of Katniss and Peeta leave my head. We're going to training! _Finally,_ I think excitedly. _I've only been waiting for this since, what, I turned five?_

Enobaria and Yoh walk us to the elevator, and we take the short ride downstairs. I'm practically bouncing up and down the whole time, and Cato is actually smiling.

Stepping off the elevator, I see that we're one of the first districts to arrive. The only other tributes present are those from One and Four.

Perfect.

I stand up as straight as I can, and Cato and I walk across the room to meet our future allies.

For about a minute, no one says a word. Then, Cato speaks.

"Hi. I'm Cato."

A bit of an awkward silence follows, so I decide to fill it. "I'm Clove."

More silence. The District One tributes – Marvel and Glimmer – exchange a glance. The girl steps forward. "I'm Glimmer. It's a good thing you showed up – we were starting to worry that someone else would get here before you."

The boy from One nods. "Yeah. We all have things to discuss. I'm Marvel, by the way."

Cato nods, and I turn to the District Four tributes. They still haven't said anything.

Finally, the boy speaks up. "I'm Zen. This is –"

The girl cuts him off, glaring. "I can speak for myself, Zen, _thank you_. I'm Shell," she says, turning back to Cato and me.

I analyze my allies/opponents carefully. Glimmer is pretty, which of course means she's probably not all that smart. She has long blonde hair and bright green eyes. She's a bit taller than me, but doesn't look as strong. Marvel no longer looks scared, as he did at the reaping. Instead, his dark blue eyes look excited, and he keeps running his hand through his oddly contrasting light brown hair.

I turn my eyes to the District Four tributes once again. Shell has dark hair, like me, but hers is wild. This girl looks quite young, maybe fifteen. Fourteen, even. I mean, she's tall and looks strong, but something in her eyes – which are a strange turquoise color – suggests youth. Last of all, I look at Zen. Clearly, this one's a fighter. He's huge, much taller than me. His hair is a color similar to Marvel's, and it's cropped short. His eyes are black.

Cato clears his throat. "Okay. It's… nice… to meet you all. I assume we're sticking with the traditional alliance?" Everyone nods – of course we are. "Well, then. The first thing we need to discuss–"

"—is Twelve," I snarl.

"Here's the deal, though," Cato says, "I don't particularly care who kills the boy. He's worthless. But the girl could be a problem. And you're not gonna like this, but Clove and I have dibs on killing her."

Glimmer hisses and Marvel's eyes tighten. All four of our allies look furious.

Shell is the first to recover. "Maybe we want to kill her, too," she snaps. "You don't have any right to claim her like that. You're not the only one who hates her!"

I raise an eyebrow. "Sorry, that's not how it works. We have dibs on the fire girl, and that's that."

Marvel glares at me. "Oh? And how do you know one of us didn't call her before you did?" he challenges mockingly.

Cato rolls his eyes. "Well, seeing as you can't officially call dibs until the whole alliance is together, and Clove and I have just done that, and you haven't… well, I'd say it's a pretty safe bet."

I somehow manage to stifle the laugh that desperately wants to escape me. I take one look at the faces of my allies, though, and think that laughing at them might not be the greatest idea. Quickly, I think of a solution.

"Yes, Cato and I have dibs on actually killing her. But no one said we can't have some fun with her before that," I say, the corners of my lips turning up in a vicious smile. "We can give the audience a really good show… scare her, of course, and make sure she doesn't die quickly."

Glimmer interrupts me, but she sounds excited now. "Remember that girl from Eight four years ago? The year that boy from Four won?" As she says this, she glances at Zen.

I do laugh this time, because that was my favorite Games ever. "Exactly."

The girl's name was Violet. She was really strange; none of the other tributes liked her. I mean, that's normal, but she didn't have allies or anything. But she had a _lot_ of sponsors. Violet actually made it into the final six. Then she got cornered by the girl from District One – which is probably why Glimmer seems so excited about it – and was killed. Obviously. But the thing was, the girl from One was absolutely vicious. It took her _six hours_ to get rid of Violet. It was insane, yet awesome. She used knives mostly, cutting off various body parts – ears, lips, tongue. She pulled out all Violet's hair, too, and her fingernails. That part was actually hard to watch – and I could barely hear anything for days after because Violet was screaming so loudly. Anyway, the girl from One – ugh, I wish I could remember her name – eventually got around to the actual killing part.

Well, the girl didn't win – she made it to the final three, but then the boy from four – who ended up as the victor – snuck up on her and put a knife in her head. Either way, I've always admired her. And ever since that awful Katniss Everdeen stole my spotlight at the opening ceremonies – as short as that time has been, it feels like years – I've been picturing killing her, having her die like Violet.

Glimmer grins at me now, and I can tell we're going to get along fine.

"So," Cato says, "Clove and I will do the actual killing, but you can help with everything else. There'll be plenty to do – trust me."

That's when I know that Cato and I are the leaders of this alliance; everyone else is looking at us with something that resembles respect. We're smart, and unmerciful, and we want to win. What else can someone ask for in an ally?

I nod. "That's settled, then," I say with finality. Just then, the elevator doors open and the tributes from District Nine walk in. We all glare at them, and move closer together.

"Here's the plan for today," Cato says quietly. "We'll split up before lunch, then we regroup. Everyone, stick with your district partner. Keep an eye on all the other tributes, _especially Twelve_, got that? Good. See you all in a couple of hours."

Glimmer, Marvel, Shell, and Zen smirk at us and walk away. Every couple of minutes, more tributes enter the room. Twelve is the last to arrive. I glare fiercely at them, and am pleased to notice that Katniss flinches when she sees us. I notice smugly that she doesn't look nearly as dangerous or beautiful as she did during the opening ceremonies.

A tall, athletic woman walks into the room and introduces herself as Atala. She quickly briefs us on all the stations and the rules, and then every tribute has their district number pinned onto their shirt.

When we're released, Cato drags me over to the spear throwing station, probably so that he can show off. But then, as he picks up a huge, deadly looking spear, he leans down to whisper in my ear. "So, what do you think? About them?"

I hesitate. "I don't think they're much to go on. I think I'll actually get along okay with Glimmer, but Marvel and Shell seem really irritating… and Zen looks like a threat. So I'm not sure…"

Cato nods. "Yeah, that's more or less what I thought too. So, let's say that if someone goes after one of them at the Cornucopia – particularly Zen – we won't try too hard to help. Agreed?"

"Perfect. And just so you know," I say with a grin, "that stuff about them being able to help with Twelve was absolute bullshit. She's all ours."

Cato laughs and we high-five.

It's great to have allies.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far! I hope you liked this chapter, even though it's kind of a filler... but I'm trying to get past all the pre-Games stuff quickly... actually, I'm failing at that. The actual Games will start in Chapter 10, or (possibly) 11. Anyway, please, please please review, I can't tell you how much I love going to my inbox and seeing new reviewfavorite/author alerts. (:**

**~What the Quell**


	5. A Scare

Chapter Five: A Scare

Throwing spears quickly becomes boring, for me, anyway. Cato seems to love it. Of course, I'm decent at this – Brutus trained me in every weapon available to us. But the spears are so heavy, and after about half an hour I'm ready to move on.

"Where next, then?" Cato asks. I grin, and we head over to the knives.

The only other tribute at this station is the girl from Nine, and she's awful. She's aiming for a dummy about twenty feet away, and can't even get a solid stick.

"Want some help?" I say sweetly. The girl nods, looking relieved, and I pick up a knife. "Here, let me show you." I fling the blade at the dummy, and it sticks right in its forehead.

The girl stares for a moment; then she scurries away, clearly frightened. Cato cracks up.

"That was great," he laughs. "Did you see the look on her face?"

I laugh, too. "Yeah. The tributes from Nine are always pathetic."

Cato smirks at me. "Okay, well, let's see what you've got."

I raise an eyebrow in disbelief. "Um, hello? Did you not see what just happened here?"

He rolls his eyes. "Of course I did, Clove! But I'm sure you can do better than that."

I suppose he has a point. I pick up a short, very sharp blade and look around for an acceptable target – everything is so close! Then I spot the girl I just scared off over at the rock wall. She's clearly an okay climber, since she's already gotten halfway up the wall in the short time since she ran from me. But right now she's just hanging there, unable to reach the next foothold.

I think I'll help her out.

I judge the distance – she's about forty feet away. It's far, but I've been using knives since I could talk – it's within my range.

"Need some help again, sweetheart?" I call out to the girl. The tributes from Twelve look up at something I've said. I smile smugly at them, anticipating their reactions. I turn back to the rock wall – the girl from Nine is staring at me fearfully.

Taking a half step forward, I fling the knife toward my target. I'm not actually aiming for the girl, of course – it's against the rules, and I don't want to risk disqualification. No, the blade buries itself in the wall, halfway between the foothold the girl was reaching for and the one she's grasping now. Just as I knew it would, of course.

It's one of my best throws in years – the blade isn't visible at all, just the hilt. I wink at the girl, who's still staring at me, petrified. Grinning, I toss my hair back behind my shoulders, readjust my headband, and turn back to the other knives.

Cato, who I've all but forgotten about, nudges me. "Look at Twelve!" he hisses.

I look over at Fire Girl and Lover Boy – they're at the camouflage station. Fire Girl is staring at me with wide eyes – as she should be. Lover Boy looks scared, too – but he's looking at _her_.

"What the hell?" I whisper to Cato.

He shrugs at me. "I dunno, do I? Looks like he wasn't faking at the opening ceremonies, though, don't you think?"

I scowl and stalk over to another target, taking as many knives as I can carry with me. The target is relatively simple – it's just a larger version of a dartboard. I picture Fire Girl's face on the center of the board, and hitting the bulls-eye is effortless every time.

I'm aware that several tributes are watching me, and that makes it even more important that I never miss. And I don't, of course. But after a while it gets a little repetitive, so I turn to Cato.

"Want to try?"

He grins and picks up a large, serrated blade. Then he walks back to the dummies and aims for one that's maybe fifteen feet away. The knife doesn't stick, but it does slice open a large portion of the dummy's chest. It would be a fatal wound.

I'm pleased to see that Cato, though adequate with knives, isn't nearly as skilled as I am. As if reading my mind, he turns to me. "Save it – you're better at this. But I could take you with anything else!"

I roll my eyes. "You're on."

For a few hours, we try to go to every station with weapons. At least, that's the original plan – but we figure out pretty quickly that it takes too long for us to determine a winner with every skill. This will probably take the rest of today and a good portion of tomorrow.

So far Cato has beaten me with maces, archery, and, of course, spears. However, I'm the champion when it comes to axes and knives – and I'm about to win at the machete station.

"Fine!" he huffs. "You win at this."

I smirk. "Of course I do!"

His eyes narrow in mock (?) hatred. "Watch it, Flair," he warns playfully.

I feign innocence. "Well, I'm sorry, Vripah, but there's no use pretending. I'm only telling you what you already know!"

To be honest, I'm really surprised at how well Cato and I have been getting along. I mean, I always thought he was mad, but he's surprisingly… not. It's really easy to just talk to him, joke around a bit, and not be uncomfortable. I feel like, if we were anywhere else but here, we could be friends.

And that scares the hell out of me.

I bite my lip, uncertain. I know it's a bad idea to become close to Cato at all. Because we can't be friends. Not here. Anywhere else, absolutely. But not here, where in the next few weeks one of us is going to die.

Our conversation is interrupted when we're told that it's time for lunch. We immediately look around for our allies, and we all grab a table when we find them.

Naturally, one of the simplest ways to intimidate other tributes is to build a large alliance and show it off. Of course, Career tributes have been using this strategy since the Games began. Cato, Glimmer, Marvel, Shell, Zen, and I should be great at this.

"So, what do you think of everybody, now that we've gotten to see them up close?" I ask Glimmer.

"They're all pathetic," she snorts. We all laugh loudly. The other tributes – who are, for the most part, sitting alone – glance up briefly, then swiftly look away. It's nice to know they're already scared of us.

"Nice stunt with the knife earlier, by the way," Marvel compliments me.

Shell snickers. "For a second there, I actually thought it was going to hit her! Too bad that's against the rules," she sighs.

Zen nods. "Yeah, it's a shame," he says. Then he adds loudly, "Then again, they'll all be gone within a day or two. There may not even be a point in us forming an alliance at all!"

We all laugh again, but this time it's forced. That's not a smart this to say to your allies – like, _at all_ – even if it is effective in scaring the other tributes. Still, I decide that Zen isn't my favorite ally by a long shot.

Cato seems to be thinking along those lines as well. "Watch it," he says, so quietly that at first I doubt that Zen even heard him. But then Zen looks up, and the expression on his face is terrifying.

The rest of lunch is pretty awkward. Sure, we act as if nothing ever happened, so we don't raise suspicion – but there's tension. I notice that Cato keeps shooting Zen death glares when he thinks that no one is looking.

Lunch ends after about half an hour. I'm grateful, but then again, it might be a bad idea for me to be around Cato any more today. Then I have an idea.

"Cato, we need to split up," I whisper almost silently. "I don't like having Zen and Shell together. It seems like they might be planning something."

This, of course, immediately puts him on the defensive. "They better not be!" he hisses.

"No worries, I have a plan," I tell him. Then in a louder voice, I say, "Girls, come with me. We're going to separate from them for a bit."

Cato nods. "Marvel, Zen, with me."

After they've gone, I grin to myself. That, I must say, was a pretty brilliant move on my part. This way, I can stay away from Cato for a couple of hours – just so I can clear my head – and he still thinks he knows everything.

I turn to Glimmer and Shell and decide to act a little bit. "Thank you so much for agreeing to this," I groan. "He was driving me _crazy!_"

Glimmer rolls her eyes. "No worries," she says. "Marvel's an idiot, too, so I was actually pretty happy when you said we were splitting up."

"And Zen's an overprotective fool, of course. It's good to get away from him," Shell scoffs.

That surprises me. I wouldn't have guessed Zen had any sort of protective side.

"What do you mean?" I ask curiously.

Shell sighs. "Why don't we go over to the edible plants station, and I'll tell you there. Zen wouldn't go earlier, he only wanted to try out all the weapons."

Glimmer and I quickly agree, and when we arrive, Shell sighs again. "See, Zen is technically my cousin. Our mothers were sisters, but his parents both drowned when he was really little, before I was born, I think. Anyway, he got sent to District Four's orphanage, but we see him every now and then. And for some reason he feels like he needs to _protect_ me here, and I don't understand why. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself!"

I just look at her, stunned. Zen and Shell are cousins? That's odd. I think back to when we first met the District Four tributes, and Shell was irritated with Zen when he tried to speak for her. It makes sense.

Then again, it's odd that Shell would reveal so much. Maybe she was too fed up and needed to vent a bit? Or did she make the whole thing up?

I stifle a groan, with a bit of difficulty. That'd be just great, because Zen would have to be in on it too. And if they thought they needed to pretend they were cousins, they're almost certainly planning something.

Yeah. That's just great.

I look over at my allies. Shell seems to love this edible plant stuff, not that I can see why. Glimmer just looks bored.

I have to take Glimmer's side on this. I honestly try to pay attention, but everything the trainer tells me just goes in one ear and out the other. Good thing Shell will be with us in the arena, she can be in charge of this stuff.

Finally, we get through all the plants and get to move on. "Where do you want to go next?" I ask.

Glimmer shrugs. "How about we go tie some knots?"

Shell and I are fine with that, so we head over to the knot tying station.

It's always irritating to find out that I'm not good at something, but I _really_ suck at this. I peek over at Shell and Glimmer. It's obvious that Shell's great at this, because she already has a large pile of different knots. Glimmer is okay, she's successfully made a trap that leaves someone dangling by his or her ankle. But I'm struggling to make a simple noose.

I turn back to the rope for a few minutes, but I simply can't get the hang of this. As I throw it down in frustration, I hear someone sigh next to me.

It's Shell. She grabs the incomplete noose and works on it for all of ten seconds, and then it's finished.

I look at her in awe. "How are you so good at this? Did you learn in District Four?"

Shell surprises me by looking a bit… sad. "FinnickOdairismyuncle," she mutters quickly.

Fantastic.

This just gets better and better. One of my opponents – no, _two_, because Zen must be also – two of my opponents are related to Finnick Odair. The famous victor surely trained them for this… yeah, this is not good.

But the worst part is that now I have to tell Cato everything.

The rest of training drags. I keep glancing over at Cato – he, Marvel, and Zen are back at the machete station. I'm actually having a decent time with Glimmer and Shell, but Cato needs to know what I've learned. Immediately.

Ugh, but I wish that wasn't necessary! Because of course I can't _trust_ him. But for now, we're on the same team. Sort of.

When training ends – finally – I march straight over to Cato. Grabbing one of his arms, I drag him onto the elevator without a word. It's not until we're safely back on District Two's floor that I take a deep breath and say, "We have a problem."

He scowls. "Yeah, we do. Zen is a little son of a –"

"Not him!" I say impatiently. "I mean, yeah him, but it's Shell, too." I quickly repeat what Shell told me, about Zen being her cousin. "And we were at the knot tying station, and she was really good, so I asked if she had learned it in District Four or something. And she said Finnick Odair is her uncle," I moan. "And if everything she's said is true, that means Zen is related to him, too. We're dead," I finish despairingly.

Cato stares at me, stunned. Then his eyes narrow into menacing slits. "They didn't mention anything about that at the reaping! What the hell?"

I shake my head. "I don't know! Maybe we should go talk to Yoh and Enobaria…"

He nods. "Probably. Yoh's a total moron, but Enobaria should know what to do."

We find our mentors in the dining room, waiting for us. As fast as we can, we tell them about everything Shell had said. When we finish, I collapse into a chair next to Enobaria. Cato remains standing.

"Okay, first thing: _calm down,_" Enobaria commands us. For the next few minutes, she doesn't speak. Then she says, "All right. You said that Zen's mother was Shell's mother's sister, right?" I nod. "Good. So Finnick Odair must be the younger brother of either Shell's mother or Shell's father. We know her mother had a sister, but it's possible that she was her only sibling. If that's the case, Finnick is her father's brother, and that would mean that Zen isn't blood-related to Finnick at all."

I blink rapidly. "Um… I'm confused."

Cato looks a little dazed. "Can you say that again… more slowly this time?"

Yoh coughs. "Er, Enobaria?" he says tentatively.

"What?" she snaps.

Yoh coughs again. "Finnick Odair cannot be the younger brother of Shell's father. If he were, Shell's father's last name would also be Odair, and so would Shell's. But it's not. So Finnick must be Shell's uncle on her mother's side, which means that Zen is indeed blood-related to Finnick Odair."

I look at Yoh with wide eyes. _Damn._

Biting my lip, I look at Cato. He looks as worried as I feel. He's staring at his mentor, as if willing him to take the words back, to make them untrue.

Mentor.

_DAMN._

I start to hyperventilate. Enobaria looks at me, concerned. "Clove? Are you all right?"

"No," I manage to choke out. "OhmyGodhe'sthey'rementor. We're dead."

Enobaria looks at me, irritated. "Of course he's they're mentor. He takes the job every year, I would know!"

I shake my head violently. "No! Don't you see? I know every mentor wants to bring their tributes back, but he'll have a legitimate reason this year, something besides the fact that they're from the same district!" I'm a little hysterical at this point. "He'll work even harder to make sure either his niece or nephew gets home! We're dead!"

I meet Cato's gaze, and I can tell he knows it too.

Enobaria slams her hand on the table. "ENOUGH! I'm very disappointed in both of you! For one thing, you should know better than to fall for something like this! First of all, do either Shell or Zen bear ANY resemblance to Finnick Odair whatsoever? No! Do you really think that you wouldn't have heard about it if _two_ relatives of Finnick Odair were in the Hunger Games in the _same year?_ Don't you think I would have told you? I'm your mentor, and I would have done – _will do _– just as much as Finnick ever could to bring my tributes home. How can you not know that? I'm very good at my job. I needed to know how well you could handle both pressure and the chance that someone could pose a threat to you! And guess what? I'm not pleased with the answer I got. You're Careers, dammit! You need to start acting like it!"

I stare at her. What? She made this all up? But then, she must have set it up with Finnick himself, for Shell and Zen to go along with it…

This was a test. And we just failed it.

"How – how did you get Finnick to go along with this?" Cato asks in a strained voice. His face is white.

Enobaria scowls at us. "He thought it would benefit his tributes more than it would benefit you. He thought that it would give Shell and Zen an advantage over you, if you were even temporarily scared or uncertain of them. Clearly, he was right!"

I shake my head slowly back and forth. What's wrong with me? Somehow, I've gone from a vicious Career tribute to a frightened little girl who expects her mentor to solve her problems. How did this happen?

I'm absolutely horrified with myself. I don't understand what's going on. I was having a great training session – competing with Cato was a great way to push myself to levels I've never reached with some weapons. And then a little thing like this gets in the way? Maybe I'm stressed? Overworked? I don't know. We've only been here for a couple of days!

Enobaria is still glaring at us both, and Yoh is looking stern. Was he in on this? It seems like it, but I'm surprised that Enobaria told him. She must be obligated to, since they work together… and this was kind of a big deal…

I want to bury my face in my hands. This is unbelievable.

Suddenly I notice that I'm standing, and everyone else is looking at me. And I realize that I need to get away from them. Or I might lose my mind.

"I'm going to bed," I say in a strangled voice.

Yoh looks at me, concerned. "Don't you want any dinner? And the stylists will be here soon, don't you want to see them?"

I shake my head vehemently. "No. I'm really tired, I need to go to sleep. And I'm not hungry. I'll have a big breakfast tomorrow."

Enobaria scowls. "Fine. Go to bed. See you in the morning."

I somehow find my way to my room. I don't know how – I'm pretty disoriented. When I've closed the door, I fall onto my bed and scream into the pillow for a solid ten minutes. I have a lot to get out.

This is not how Careers act. And I am a Career, so I need to change. It's as simple as that. I'm not going to win – that thought is horrifying! – if I keep going on like this. From now on, I'm going to be completely focused.

I groan. Somehow, that seems… hard. Because something in me changed today, and not for the better. And I can't seem to figure out what.

* * *

><p><strong>So, here's the first day of training... it's my longest chapter so far, I hope you like it. (: Please, please review! It doesn't matter if it's only two words. I haven't been getting a lot of reviews lately, but they make my day so much better! <strong>

**~What the Quell**


	6. The Darkest Hour

Chapter Six: The Darkest Hour

I could just sleep away the rest of my life. It would be so simple. I'd just go to bed one night and never get up. Eternal peace.

If only I weren't so hungry.

Internally, I kick myself for not eating last night. That was pretty stupid of me – now I have to get up. I glance over at the clock, desperately hoping that it's not ridiculously early. The numbers tell me that it's 12:07.

12:07!

Groaning, I drag myself out of bed – there's no way I'm going to make it until morning without food. I throw on a robe that's hanging in my tiny closet, and step in to a pair of slippers that are by the door. I stumble into the hallway and make my way to the dining room. Someone's already there, though. My throat goes dry.

What? It's just Cato. Why would my throat dry up because of him? _I hardly had anything to drink last night,_ I reason with myself. _All I had was that tiny glass of water I ordered from that machine in my –_

Ah, hell. I really need to start using my brain a little more in the morning.

Cato looks up at me. "You couldn't sleep, either?"

I shake my head, embarrassed. "I was just hungry."

"Oh yeah," he says, frowning. "I forgot you didn't eat."

Nodding, I walk over to the buffet counter on the far side of the room and fill a small plate with food. Then, I sit down across from Cato.

He raises his eyebrows. "Um, you do know there's a machine in your room and you can just go ahead and order–"

I cut him off. "I know, I know. It's the morning thinking. I tend to not think things through all that well until I've been up for a while."

He grins. "I can see that," he says, nodding towards my slippers. Glancing down, I see that they're on the wrong feet.

I close my eyes, sighing. "I'd say that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever done in the morning, but that'd be a lie. I've had much worse than this."

Cato smirks. "Such as?"

I sigh, resigned. "Okay… well, there was one thing when I was maybe twelve. I had to get up really early to train with Brutus, and he had told me the day before to bring a mace, because he thought I needed to work with them more. Only, I had stayed up really late that night, and the next morning… instead of the mace, I grabbed the whisk. Brutus thought I was completely insane!"

Cato doesn't respond, and I look at him anxiously. I see that he's doubled over laughing, and his face is turning purple.

I smack him on the arm. "It's not funny!"

"It's very funny, and you know it," he chokes out.

I glare at him.

Finally, he calms down. "Don't worry about it," he says. "I've done some pretty stupid stuff, too."

"Such as?" I ask loftily.

He sighs. "Okay, you know how I kind of bounced between trainers?" I nod. "Well, it was my first day with a new one, and I was actually pretty nervous, because I'd heard that she could be really mean. Anyway – you know, this is kind of similar to what you did – she had told me to bring a mace. Only she talked kind of funny and it sounded like she said _lace…_"

I grin. "Don't tell me…"

Cato groans. "It was _awful!_ I showed up with twenty yards of my mom's best lace, the trainer thought I was mental…"

It's my turn to laugh. "Are you serious? What did she do?"

He closes his eyes, as if trying to block out the memory. "I don't remember exactly, I was really young. Believe me, if that happened now I'd know that she wouldn't have asked me to bring lace!"

I shake my head, still giggling. "I can't picture that."

Cato narrows his eyes. "What, me bringing lace to training or being able to know that I shouldn't?"

This just makes me laugh harder.

Cato stands up and walks over to me, where I'm bent over and clutching my sides because they hurt so badly. "Whisk," he whispers in my ear.

This is very effective in shutting me up.

"So, why are you here?" I ask curiously.

He frowns. "Do you want me to leave?"

I sigh. "You know that's not what I meant. I mean, why are you out of bed? Didn't you eat last night?"

"Yeah," he says. "But I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about what Enobaria said. About us not acting like Careers." Cato's eyes seem to darken. "She's right! It was so easy for her to scare us, to distract us with a little lie about Finnick Odair."

"In our defense, it was a pretty big lie," I mutter mutinously.

"No! That's the point, Clove! Who cares if he was related to them? If he's their mentor anyway? I'm sure Finnick trained tons of people back in Four. And he tries his best to get his tributes back no matter who they are, every mentor does!"

After thinking about it for a minute, I have to agree with him. "I guess so," I say slowly, "but still. That was kind of a lot to spring on us at once."

He shrugs. "That's the Hunger Games for you, though."

I decide that I'm sick of discussing such serious topics. I try to lighten the mood. "So, have you decided what angle you're going with for your interview?"

Cato rolls his eyes. "We're allies, Clove, but I can hardly give away _all_ my secrets!"

I blush. "Right."

He scowls. Wow, people have been doing that so much today. "I don't really see that it matters. It's just a stupid interview. I don't care what they think of me."

"But it's very important!" I exclaim, shocked. "The interview is where potential sponsors decide whether or not they like you. And sponsors can make or break your entire Games!"

He just glowers at the floor. "I don't care! It's not important to me. And besides," he adds, his tone becoming much lighter, teasing almost, "it only matters to you because it means you get to wear another pretty dress!"

I grin at him. "Maybe. But I can't help but feel like this time it's going to matter. Like something big is going to happen."

Cato snorts. "Sure, Clove. But really, you did looks nice at the opening ceremonies. And the reaping, too," he says, smiling.

I blush again. Why am I blushing? I don't know, but one thing is clear. This cannot continue, or we're going to get hurt.

"What are we doing, Cato?" I whisper.

He looks surprised at my sudden change of tone. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean!" I say desperately. " What I mean is that I don't think I could kill someone who feels like a friend. So having someone who I care about in the arena is dangerous for me. And the more I'm around you, the better we seem to get along, and obviously that's a bad thing. Because sometime in the next couple of weeks, one of us is going to die. _Die,_ Cato. So we can't be friends. Ever."

Cato stays quiet for a moment. "Do I feel like a friend, Clove?"

I press my hands against my eyes. "I don't know," I say angrily. "All I do know is that _we can't be friends._ Period. If we try, all it's going to do is get us both killed!"

He's silent for another minute. Then, "You're right."

"I know I am."

He hesitates. "So… still allies?" I nod, silently wishing that we were back in District Two. There, we wouldn't have to worry about killing or being killed or any of this. We could be friends.

And this is exactly why we need to quit this. Because victors do not go around making friends, or wishing they could be friends, with their opponents. It's just too dangerous!

I turn to leave – I can't take much more of this. But his voice stops me.

"Clove?"

I turn back around. "Yes?"

He smiles at me. "We still have dibs on Fire Girl, right?"

I give him a small, sad smile in return. "Sure," I say quietly. "I think we should still be able to handle that."

Cato lets me go without another word, and I'm grateful. Somehow I make it back to my room, and I collapse on the bed, feeling completely miserable.

* * *

><p><strong>I loved writing this chapter. :D Clove and Cato might seem a little OOC, but, you know, they're both tired, it's late, and they've had a long day. Anyway, there's not going to be any CatoClove romance in this story, because that's just waaaay too OOC for me to write. For now... maybe I'll write something like that later on. ;) Anyway... I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this, but I got really nice reviews for the last chapter. :) So, I hope you liked this... review, please!**

**~What the Quell**


	7. Effort

Chapter Seven: Effort

When I wake up again, it's a little after seven. Sighing, I climb out of bed and get dressed. I don't really even notice what I'm putting on – it's just whatever Maio had set out for me. I no longer care.

I'm the first one up, apparently. When I get to the dining room, the only other person present is an Avox. I ignore her and fill up a plate with some food.

I'm guessing I'll have at least a good hour before anyone joins me for breakfast. I'm too tired to go back to sleep – wow, that's a new one – so I'll just wait here. Besides, I have a lot of confused thoughts that desperately need sorting through.

The Games start in four days. There's no getting around it. I can't keep on pretending – because I know now that that's what I've been doing – that I'll just live in this building for the rest of my life with Maio and Enobaria and… Cato.

Cato. I don't understand anything about him. What I do know is that being friends is not an option, no matter what. There's only one rule in the Hunger Games, and it's kill or be killed. There can only be one survivor. And if I'm going to win, Cato is going to have to die… there's simply no way to get around it.

I bury my face in my arms. I don't understand why this has become so complicated. I volunteered for this – I knew what I was getting into!

I shake my head. It's the morning-thinking that's getting to me – it makes everything that much more confusing.

I need caffeine.

Walking over to the drinks, I spot what I'm looking for: coffee. I've never actually tried it before, but I know Mother loves it. I pour some into a mug and take a sip. Then I spit it out in disgust.

Ugh, but it's terrible! I'm about to dump all of it, but the Avox walks over to me. She gently takes the mug from my hands and starts adding things to it. Milk, sugar, and is that chocolate? Then she squirts some puffy white stuff that I don't recognize on top. The Avox silently gives back the mug.

Warily, I take a sip, and my eyes widen. It's wonderful! I'll have to remember this for tomorrow morning. After a few gulps of this improved coffee, my head is much clearer. Maybe I'll ask Enobaria to use some of my sponsor money to send me coffee. It'll help keep me awake in the arena.

After a few minutes, Enobaria herself walks into the room. "Coffee?" she asks, sounding surprised. I nod. "You know, coffee gives you a boost for a little while, but then you totally crash."

Huh. Maybe coffee in the arena wouldn't be such a great idea after all.

I keep my eyes on my mentor as she sits down across from me. The truth is, I'm slightly worried – after her outburst last night, being in close proximity to her might not be the best idea. But I guess she's had time to cool down since then.

On the other hand, I've seen recaps of her Games – I know what she's capable of. It used to give me nightmares, actually.

We eat in awkward silence for the next few minutes, and I'm grateful when Maio enters the room.

"Clove!" he cries. "We missed you last night! Where were you?"

I give my stylist a weak smile. "I wasn't hungry, so I went to bed early. I thought I'd catch up on some sleep, you know…"

Maio nods. "Yes, yes, that was probably wise. We can't have you falling asleep in the arena, now, can we?"

"Definitely not," I agree.

Yoh walks in. "Have you all seen Cato?" he asks, sounding worried. "He's not in his room, and I haven't seen him all morning."

"Try the roof," says Enobaria, sounding unconcerned.

"Good idea," Yoh sighs gratefully. He runs back out of the room.

I look at Enobaria. "I didn't know tributes were allowed on the roof," I say. "What if someone tried to jump off?"

"Oh, there's a force field or something so you can't do that," she says dismissively.

That's odd. I'll have to go up there sometime, before the Games start.

After about fifteen minutes – the entirety of which Maio spends chattering at me – Cato walks in, looking subdued. I determinedly avoid eye contact with him. Yoh enters after him.

"I found him!" he says unnecessarily. "He was on the roof, Enobaria, like you suggested."

How did Cato know about the roof? Did Yoh tell him? It doesn't seem likely, since he didn't think to look for him there. I think Cato has a cousin or something who's a victor, though. Maybe that's how he knew.

I wonder why he didn't tell me.

I sigh to myself. I really need to stop thinking things like that. We're allies – that's it. Not friends.

I look around the table. No one is talking. This is the exact opposite of yesterday morning, when the stylists were yelling at Cato and me. Speaking of, I don't see Cato's stylist anywhere. I wonder why she's not here…

Finally, Enobaria stands up and says, "Clove, Cato, you need to get downstairs. It's a quarter till ten."

The rest of us stand up quickly, and Enobaria and Yoh walk us to the elevator – honestly, I can't figure out why they think it's necessary.

When the doors close, Cato turns to me. "So what's the plan for today?" he asks politely.

I hesitate. "I think we should break into groups of two. It'll make it easier to learn about the others. Then we can switch it all around after lunch. What do you think?"

"Sure," he says. "The only thing is, I think we should try to keep the district partners separate. Just in case, you know."

I nod – that does seem like the smartest thing to do. "Okay. I'll start out with Glimmer, so you should choose between Shell and Zen."

"Shell, for sure," he says quickly. "I still don't like Zen."

This irritates me, but for no good reason, so I let it go. "Okay, so I take it after lunch you want Marvel, and I'll stick with Zen?" Ugh. I don't like him much either.

Apparently, this shows on my face, because Cato sighs. "Don't worry about it. I'll take Zen, you take Marvel."

"Thanks," I say gratefully. "And tomorrow we can switch, I'll have Four and you can have One."

"Great."

Suddenly I notice that the elevator has stopped and the doors are open. I wonder how long it's been – it only takes a couple of seconds for us to go down two floors. Luckily, none of the other tributes have arrived, which means that none of them heard what we were just planning. That would have been a disaster.

We quickly step off the elevator, and the doors close. After a couple of minutes they open again – Glimmer and Marvel are here.

I smile and wave them over. "We have a lot to get done today," I tell them.

Glimmer raises an eyebrow. "Such as?"

Marvel scowls. "There's only so much to do here."

I choose to ignore that, because that was maybe the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Ever.

"There's a lot to get done," I repeat. "We're going to break into groups of two. Glimmer, you'll be with me. Shell will be with Cato –"

"Excuse me?" says a voice behind us. Shell and Zen have arrived.

"About time," I mutter. Then in a louder voice, I say, "We're going to break into groups of two. Glimmer is with me, Shell with Cato, and Marvel with Zen. After lunch, we'll switch to Marvel and me, Cato and Zen, and Glimmer and Shell."

"Okay," Glimmer says. "So, what else is there?"

I exchange a brief glance with Cato; this is something we discussed during training yesterday. "We're going to try to get to every station, between the six of us. Go to as many as you can; the best thing would be if we could all get everywhere, but that's unlikely. So, get in as much variety as you can. Don't just stick to weapons, or survival skills, mix it up so we can learn as much as we can today."

Cato finishes for me. "Then, tomorrow, we're going to focus on the tributes themselves. We'll watch them and decide on key targets for the bloodbath. That way it'll be easier, if we already know our strategy when the gong sounds."

I can see that our allies agree with us; it's a well thought out plan. "One other thing," I add. "We need to keep an eye out to see if there's anyone else worth allying with. I'm fairly confident that there isn't, but it's good to be safe. Notice if anyone has special skills that could be beneficial to us. Be observant."

They all nod, and we head over to the spot where we waited for the other tributes yesterday.

Two at a time, they arrive – this time, Twelve isn't last. We all have our district numbers pinned onto us, and then we're released.

I look at Glimmer. "So, where do you want to start out at?"

She shrugs. "How about we go to the camouflage station? You never know, maybe we'll need to know that kind of thing."

"Sure," I say.

Camouflage actually turns out to be a lot of fun. We paint different patterns on ourselves, and for the most part we're terrible. But it's hilarious, watching each other trying to blend in with, say, a stone wall and failing miserably. Glimmer's vibrant hair and eyes don't exactly help, and I'm not much better off.

After a while, we need to move on. "Want to try rock climbing?" I suggest.

She agrees, so we leave the camouflage and walk across the room.

Climbing is pretty easy for us, since we're very strong – and at the same time we can get up fairly high on the solid wall, since we're pretty nimble, by Career standards. The trainer is delighted with us.

We go to as many stations as we can before lunch – knives, for me, and axes, for her, and also maces, fire starting, and shelter building. About twenty minutes before lunch is supposed to start, we decide to take another trip to the edible plants station, so we're not just relying on Shell to know what to eat.

But when lunch comes around, we're just as clueless as we were yesterday.

"Oh, who cares anyway?" says Glimmer. "It probably won't even matter, we'll get all our food from the Cornucopia, and there are always sponsors."

I smack myself in the forehead. "Why didn't we think of that before we wasted all that time?"

She giggles. "Oh well. We got a lot of other stuff done, at least."

I sigh. "Yeah, I guess. So, how's Marvel? He's my partner for after lunch," I remind her unenthusiastically.

Glimmer shakes her head. "Oh, he's hopeless, of course, he always says the wrong thing, and sometimes he's just careless. Yesterday was torture."

I groan. "Well, that's just fantastic. Stupid people really need to stop volunteering. It never ends well."

Smirking, Glimmer says, "I wouldn't worry about it. He'll probably get himself killed at the bloodbath anyway, so we won't have to put up with him for long."

"Oh. Okay," I say in surprise. I've actually been getting along quite well with Glimmer, though I'll still be able to kill her if it comes to that. But still, it's a shame she has to die.

But after lunch, I don't feel quite as pleased with the other tribute from her district.

When I watched the recap of the reapings with Maio, I had thought that Glimmer looked like an idiot – or, rather, that she probably was one. Well, I was wrong. Glimmer's a good ally, and we get along well. It's _Marvel_ who's the idiot. I'm honestly surprised that he can tell the difference between a knife and an axe. It's unbelievably frustrating, trying to work with him. It almost seems like his brain can't process information at all. I don't know why he volunteered for the Games, but he couldn't win them under any circumstances. Especially not this year.

"Marvel," I say in frustration. He looks up at me – finally. He's been admiring the damn spears for over twenty minutes, and I've about had it.

"We need to move on," I tell him.

He blinks slowly. "Okay."

Then he looks back at the spears.

I growl. No one can possibly be this slow and think they have a chance of winning!

Then it hits me. No. They really can't.

Silently, I slip over to the knives station and grab a blade. Then I sneak over to Marvel and, as fast as I can, put him in a headlock and hold the blade under his throat.

Quicker than I expected, he ducks away from me. Before I can react, he grabs a spear and points it directly at my heart. I grip my knife tightly.

"Clove! Marvel!" Atala barks at us. "Combat between tributes is not allowed!"

I toss the knife behind me in disgust. "I knew it," I spit at Marvel. "You're not an idiot – no, I changed my mind. You are an idiot. Did you really think you could trick us that easily? What the hell? We're supposed to be your allies!"

His eyes tighten. "I had to do something. I promised I'd come home. I have a little sister and I'm going to do whatever it takes to get back to her."

Taking a step forward, I glare at him. "We all have people we want to get back to. But we're your allies, and when you have allies, there are certain rules you have to follow. And one of the unspoken rules is that you don't pretend to be someone you're not, just to gain an advantage over us."

Marvel looks confused. "I've never seen a list of rules."

Maybe he really is an idiot.

"That's not the point," I say in a deadly whisper. "The point is that if you lie to us again – and I don't care what it's about or how necessary it is – I _promise_ that it will end very badly for you."

Finally, he has the decency to look somewhat ashamed. "Fine," he mutters sulkily.

"Good," I say. "Training should end in ten minutes, and guess what happens then? You get to go tell all the others about how you've been lying to us, and then they'll help me decide what to do with you."

"You can't kill me," Marvel says. He's not using a defensive tone, or a pleading one. It sounds as if he's simply stating a fact.

"Oh, no, we won't kill you. Yet." I won't give him the satisfaction of arguing with him. "But you'll have the most boring jobs. You'll stand guard more often than the rest of us. You'll have to set up camp while the rest of us divide up supplies. That kind of thing. Believe me, you're going to wish you hadn't tried to trick us. I guarantee it."

He just rolls his eyes. "Whatever. I'm still going to win."

I really can't see why we don't just kick him out of the alliance altogether.

When training ends, I march him over to where Cato, Glimmer, Shell, and Zen are waiting for us. "Go on. Tell them."

"Tell us what?" asks Glimmer curiously.

Marvel looks at me as if asking for help, but he's getting no sympathy from me. Let him squirm for a while.

He sighs eventually. "Okay, well… I know I've made it seem like I'm kind of… kind of an idiot. But… I'm not… not really. I was… kind of pretending. To… sort of… get an advantage… over all of you."

They all stare at him in shock. But after a moment, Shell starts to laugh.

"Don't worry," she says, still giggling. "We're not going to do anything to you yet. We won't kick you out of the alliance – we need strength in numbers. But just know that you're never going to be safe." At this point, she doubles over from laughing so hard, and I exchange a worried look with Cato.

"Do you think maybe she's not entirely… sane?" I ask timidly when we're safely back on our floor.

He frowns. "I'm not sure… she seemed more or less fine this morning, but there were a few moments when she seemed… you know."

I sigh deeply. "Great. So we have one ally who lies, one who's insane, and one who's possibly a threat to us both. Wow, how could this go wrong?"

"I guess we'll just have to keep an eye on them."

"All the time?" I ask skeptically. "That's not going to work."

Cato shrugs. "It has to." There's not much to say other than that.

"Okay," I sigh. "So, did you notice anyone else who looked worth allying with?" _Someone who isn't a liar, or a psycho, or a threat?_ I add mentally.

"Actually… I was thinking about maybe asking Thresh to join."

"District Eleven?" I say in surprise.

"Yeah," Cato confirms. "He's actually pretty decent with most of the weapons, and I don't think there's anyone else he's going to ally with. So, do you want to ask him?"

I think about it carefully. "Maybe. Seems like a pretty good idea. We can ask the others tomorrow and see what they think."

"Awesome," he says. "See you at dinner."

I walk back to my room. Okay, that wasn't so hard. I'd gotten through a whole day with my new plan. I got along with Cato perfectly well, but we didn't talk about anything besides our allies and the other tributes. Maybe this will work.

It needs to, because I need to be able to concentrate tomorrow. We have our private sessions with the Gamemakers, and I need a good score if I want to win.

* * *

><p><strong>So, how was this? I was going to wait another day or so to post this, but I had some free time so I decided not to make you wait. :)<strong>

**Also - if you find any grammar errors or typos or anything like that, please point it out in a review, or PM me! That's the kind of thing I like to know so I can fix the problem. **

**One last thing. There were a couple of people who thought the last chapter was too short. I'm just going to say that they'll usually be much longer than that, it just felt right to end it there, you know? But I'm glad everyone seems to like longer chapters, because they're going to start getting pretty long, especially once the Games start. :)**

**REVIEW, PLEASE! :D And sorry for the long A/N... **

**~What the Quell**


	8. Jealousy Sucks

Chapter Eight: Jealousy Sucks

"Clove!"

Banging noises. Ugh, they're too loud. I roll over and pull the covers over my face to block out the sound.

"Clove!"

Who is that? Why are they waking me up?

"CLOVE FLAIR!"

My eyes fly open. _Shit!_

It's Enobaria, and when I yank the door open she's absolutely livid. "It's about time!" she seethes. "I've been trying to wake you up for twenty minutes! It's almost ten, you need to have breakfast and get downstairs!"

"I'll be there in two minutes," I say. I shut the door and run across the room in a frenzy, grabbing the outfit that has been set out for me – black pants, a black shirt, and a pink and green headband – and throwing it on. Then I step into a pair of black shoes and sprint to the dining room.

"I'm here," I gasp somewhat unnecessarily.

"Eat something, quickly," Enobaria snaps. I quickly eat a muffin, a banana, and some toast. Then I slam a glass of orange juice.

"No coffee," Enobaria says sternly. I nod.

Cato and Yoh – who I didn't realize were even here until just now – are laughing at me. I glare at them both.

"Shut up," I mutter in their general direction.

"You two need to get downstairs," Yoh says, still chuckling. "Go on – we'll see you this afternoon."

"Good luck on your private sessions!" Enobaria says. Then she speaks to me quickly, in a low voice. "Remember – throw knives for most of it, actually it might be best to just stick with them the whole time. Don't use the close targets too much, maybe you should go to the archery range. The distance will be better for you." I nod rapidly. I can see Yoh whispering to Cato out of the corner of my eye. "Go. You'll do great. Good luck, Clove."

"Thanks," I say quietly. Then Cato and I step onto the elevator.

Cato looks at me as the doors close. "So."

I almost smile. "So."

"So, I know we said yesterday that we'd all pair off again, but I was thinking it might be smarter to keep the whole alliance in a big group today, since we won't be able to switch off anyway – the private sessions are after lunch. We'll be able to see how well everyone works together, and all that."

I nod. "Sounds good to me. And remember, we need to ask them about District Eleven."

"Thresh," he corrects me. "If we want him as an ally, we're going to need to be friendly, not degrading."

This irritates me a bit, but he's right. "'Kay. We'll ask him at lunch."

"And we'll ask the others about him right away – remember, we need their permission," he adds.

The elevator doors open, and we step into the room. Most of the other tributes are here already, including all of our allies. We quickly walk over to them, and Cato begins without preamble.

"I think – and Clove agrees – that Thresh, from District Eleven, would be a good choice for an additional ally."

They all seem to think about it for a minute, and one by one, they nod. "Cool," says Glimmer. "It seems like he's pretty good at almost everything, and we don't want someone like that working against us… sounds good to me."

Shell grins. "Awesome! He looks like a fighter… and we can always use more of those."

"Don't forget, he might be able to lead us to Little Eleven," I remind them, smirking.

Marvel and Zen both laugh at this, and I scowl. I still don't like either one of them.

"All right," Cato continues. "We've decided that we're all going to stay in one large group today, so we can see how well we all work together, and get that out of the way. We won't have time to figure it all out in the arena."

They all nod, and when we're released, we head over to the rock wall. "Ladies first," Cato says, smirking. Glimmer, Shell and I each grab a foothold and begin to climb. We make it to the top of the sturdy wall easily, then scramble back down.

Cato, Marvel, and Zen have a bit of a harder time getting all the way up, since they're so much bigger than us. But they make it after a couple of minutes, and grin down at us.

"I think we're all good at this," Marvel says. "Where next?"

We only have a few hours left of training, so we only go to a couple different stations – knives and spears (it's great being in charge). Then it's time for lunch.

I nod to the others, and we all head over to where Thresh is sitting by himself. Crowding around him, we all smile, trying to be somewhat friendly.

Cato speaks first. "Hi."

Thresh doesn't speak.

I decide to try to get a response from him. "So, Thresh, we've all been talking, and we've decided that we'd like you to join our alliance. We all agree that you'd be a great addition, and it would benefit you to join." I don't add that if he refuses our offer, it will be all the worse for him. But it's implied.

Well, I get a response, and it's colorful. He speaks in a low voice that's filled with venom. "Never," he practically spits after he gets over his little fit. "All of you are hated among the other districts. I will never disgrace my home by associating myself with you. We will never be allies. You kill me, I don't care. Better than what you want. You go now."

My eyes widen. Is he serious? No one ever refuses an offer to join the Career alliance. Ever.

He's going to pay for this.

Cato seems speechless – a first – and I'm afraid that when he regains the power to use words he'll do something stupid, so I grab his arm and drag him back to a different table. The others follow us wordlessly.

"That little shit," he snarls after a minute. "He's going to pay."

I glower at the table. "Definitely."

Glimmer scowls. "Of course. But right now we need to focus on our private sessions with the Gamemakers. We need good scores, we need sponsors."

She's right, of course. I force myself not to think about Thresh, because I've been looking forward to this since I turned seven and I refuse to ruin it now.

This is going to be fun.

I'm hoping to get at least a nine. That's what my mother got when she was a tribute – and she hates it when I fall short of her expectations. Besides that, though, I need a really good score to get good sponsors. Getting a low or even moderate score is simply not an option.

Suddenly, a Gamemaker pokes her head through a slim doorway and tells Marvel that he can come in. He smirks at us before following her back into the training room, and the rest of us roll our eyes when the door closes.

Marvel's session takes about fifteen minutes. Then Glimmer is called – I give her a tentative smile, which she returns before leaving. She's in there for a shorter amount of time, maybe ten minutes. Then Cato's called.

"Good luck," I blurt out before mentally berating myself. _What a stupid thing to say. If he has any luck, it means I'm going to die._

"You too," he says, sounding a little surprised. I nod curtly at him.

I don't know how much time passes before my name is called. It might be ten minutes, or an hour. It seems to take forever, though. But finally, the Gamemaker comes back and asks for Clove Flair, and I happily get up and follow her to the others. I'm glad to see that they're still paying attention – that's another advantage of being from District Two.

"Okay, Clove, you may begin," says the Head Gamemaker, whose name I don't know. I smirk at them all and practically skip over to the knives.

Grabbing a dozen of them, I make my way to the archery range like Enobaria suggested. I stand pretty far back from the first target and get a good grip on the blade. Then I let it fly.

As expected, it hits dead center. A few of the Gamemakers raise their eyebrows, and I give them a smug smile. _You think that was good?_ One by one, I go to the other targets and put a knife in the center of each. I glance back at the Gamemakers and am pleased to see that they're all gazing at me, captivated.

Now, for the grand finale. I grab a large, very straight, very sharp blade and head over to the dummies. I stand as far back as I can manage from the one nearest to the Gamemakers. Then, I turn and face it, taking a deep breath. Holding the knife exactly parallel to the ground, I whip around in a full circle and release the blade.

It slices the dummy's head right off.

The Gamemakers are staring at me in awe. "Y-you're dismissed, Clove," the Head Gamemaker stutters.

I nod respectfully. "One last thing," I say. "I'm sure you noticed the mark in the rock wall? Well, let me tell you, you'll see even more impressive shots in the Games."

On that note I walk out, leaving them to figure out what I just said. When I close the door, though, I can't help holding one ear to it to try and hear what they're saying. All I can make out is some mumbling, though.

I strut to the elevator and back to the second floor. "Clove!" When the doors open, Enobaria immediately swoops down on me. "How did you do? I need to know _everything!_ Every detail, you hear? Go on, tell me! What are you waiting for?"

I resist the urge to point out to Enobaria that she hasn't given me a chance to get a word in. Instead, I recount my session to her, giving every detail I can remember.

When I finish, Enobaria smirks in a satisfied way. "Excellent job. I'm telling you, Clove, I'll be very surprised if you don't win this." With that, she turns her back on me. "Meet us for dinner in two hours, got it?"

I grin to myself. Awesome.

I decide to spend the time in my room looking through everything. But the closet is mostly empty, and the drawers are too. I sigh in frustration, thinking maybe I'll just take a nap.

Since I can't think of anything better to do, I lie down on the bed and shut my eyes. When I open them again, I glance at the clock. It's been nearly two hours. Ah, I love sleeping. After quickly brushing through my hair, I walk to the dining room.

"Good, you're here," Enobaria says briskly. "Sit down, eat quickly. They're going to announce the scores in half an hour."

Filled with excitement, I quickly eat whatever's in front of me – I really don't notice what it is. It's unprofessional, but I'm actually bouncing up and down in my seat.

It doesn't take long before we're all done, so the six of us – me, Cato, Enobaria, Yoh, Maio, and Cato's stylist – crowd in front of the television. Yoh grabs the remote and turns it on, and we all stare avidly at the screen.

Finally, the program begins. I bite my lip so hard it nearly starts bleeding, but frankly, at this point I'm beyond caring. I just want to know what score I've received.

Marvel gets an eight – a pretty good score overall, but not overly impressive for a Career. Glimmer gets a nine; she probably threw axes around for most of her session. It's actually a good score, there's a huge difference between eight and nine when it comes to the Careers.

Cato gets a ten – he must have used spears the whole time, plus maybe a sword… and so do I.

I gasp and feel a grin spread across my face. _I got a ten! That's even better than Mother!_ Cato and I high five, and I don't even care that it's not proper etiquette for a tribute, because I'm so thrilled.

Oh, yes. I'm sure to win now.

"Congratulations, Clove!" Maio shrieks.

"Well done, both of you," Enobaria says, beaming. Yoh seems beyond words.

I smile at them happily and turn my attention back to the screen. I've missed the scores for the District Three tributes, but Shell and Zen each get an eight. I glance over at Cato and we smirk at each other. Everyone else does poorly, the exceptions being Little Eleven, who gets a seven, and Thresh, who gets a nine.

Cato swears. "He's so dead."

I nod. "Yeah… he's going to wish he hadn't refused us."

Enobaria smirks. "Well, I know I wouldn't want to have either of you as an enemy. Now, should we bother to keep watching and see what Twelve gets, or should we just turn it off?"

"Let's keep watching," Yoh says. "I always love seeing how pathetic that district is!"

Lover Boy's face appears on the screen – he gets an eight.

I raise my eyebrows. "Seriously?" That's odd… I don't think anyone from Twelve has gotten above a four for as long as I can remember.

Cato shrugs. "I'm not worried." Well, I'm not going to appear weak by acting concerned, then. I look back at the screen just in time to see the number eleven flashing on the screen under Fire Girl's face.

Eleven?

I let out a wordless shriek in defiance. "No way!" I screech. "Eleven? _Her?_ You have got to be kidding me!"

I whip around to look at Cato, my eyes wide. He's breathing heavily, and his face if slowly turning red. "Cato?" I say uncertainly. He shakes his head, and I see him mouth something, but I'm not sure what.

I realize I'm shaking with fury, and something else as well – wait – jealously? That's a new one. I don't remember ever being jealous in my life.

I stare at the screen, not seeing it. _I'm going to kill her,_ I vow to myself. _Screw Cato. She's dead. No one – especially someone from Twelve – can steal my spotlight that easily. I'm going to kill her._ _Whatever it takes._

* * *

><p><strong>I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this, but... I didn't. ;)<strong>

**Okay, someone did leave a review asking if the story is going to end when Clove dies or if it will continue until Cato does. I'm going to answer that here in case anyone else was wondering. The answer... is neither. There will be a surprise epilogue after Clove dies, hopefully it'll come out well... either way, I'm really excited to write it. :D No, I'm not going to tell you what it is, but feel free to guess. The credit for the idea goes to neelyn8r, she suggested it to me. (Go to her page, she has an awesome HG one-shot called Bloody Fingers.) **

**Anyway, I won't get to that point for a while longer. For now, be the awesome people I know you all are and REVIEW! :D**

**~What the Quell**


	9. Irritation, Anticipation, Exasperation

Chapter Nine: Irritation, Anticipation, Exasperation

I wake up to a sharp tapping on my door. "Clove! It's time to get, up, we have a big day ahead!"

Who is that? The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't place it…

I yawn hugely and climb out of bed. Still rubbing my eyes, I pull the door open to see who it is that's woken me up.

"Surprise!" squeals Sparkle Trix.

I sigh inwardly. Of course. Sparkle's been absent for the past two days, because her job was to get us to the Capitol – we didn't need her after that, we had mentors and stylists. But I forgot that she'd have to come back to coach us on our interviews.

As much as Sparkle irritates me, I do my best to smile back at her. "Oh, hi Sparkle! Um… I guess you're here to coach us on interviews, right?" I say brightly.

She nods happily. "That's right! Now, you need to get dressed and meet us in the dining room in ten minutes, okay?" With that, she turns on her heel and almost… yeah, she's actually twirling. Twirling and walking.

How people from the Capitol come up with this stuff, I'll never understand.

Well, it's unimportant right now. I get dressed quickly – faded pink jeans (I think that's what they're called, anyway, I've never worn them before), a tight white tank top, and a green headband (really, what is it with my stylist needing me to wear a headband every day?) are sitting at the foot of my bed.

Walking down the hallway and into the dining room, I contemplate what it is I'll have to go through today. Hopefully nothing too torturous – I know I have to spend time with Enobaria, which should be fine… but Sparkle is a nuisance. Honestly, I don't know what it is about her that drives me so insane, but she seriously makes me want to jump off a cliff sometimes.

Cato and Yoh aren't there when I arrive – just Enobaria and Sparkle. "Good, you're here," Enobaria says. "You're going to spend four hours with Sparkle and then four hours with me. With Sparkle, you'll work on presentation; with me, content. Cato's with Yoh right now, so you'll go with Sparkle first."

I try to smile instead of grimace. Sparkle is absolutely beaming at me. "Let's get started!" she trills in her strange Capitol accent.

To say the least, the next four hours are some of the worst of my life.

I don't really mind what we're actually doing – I'm fine with wearing the dress, and the shoes, and I could really care less that my escort spends half the time demanding that I smile wider and sit up straighter. No, it's Sparkle's mere presence that irritates me beyond belief. When the time's up, I practically sprint out of the room.

"I'm here," I pant when I find Enobaria waiting for me in the room where we watched the scores being announced on TV.

She smirks. "I'll bet that was fun. Sit down."

I oblige, and lean my head back and close my eyes, exhausted.

"Okay," Enobaria says, and I open my eyes reluctantly. "There's not much you need to remember for your interview – I've got it all figured out. You're going to pretty much just be yourself. Confident, strong, talented. They'll love you."

I nod. "I can do that."

She smiles. "Now, we're going to practice. Pretend I'm Caesar Flickerman. Just answer the questions and make sure you remember everything Sparkle taught you."

I sit up straight and fold my hands in my lap. Enobaria nods approvingly. "Good." Then she clears her throat. "Alright, Clove, it's great to have you here. Now, what was going through your mind when you volunteered for the Games last week?"

I smile as warmly as I can manage. "Thank you, Caesar. When I volunteered, there wasn't really anything going through my mind except _focus, Clove, focus._ I'd been waiting for years for that moment."

Enobaria nods. "Impressive. You seem very excited to be here – what do you like most about the Capitol so far?"

I pretend to think it through. "Everything is just so amazing here. I love everything, when I win I'm totally going to live here!"

Enobaria nods, taking a timeout from the practice interview. "That's good, Clove. Flatter them. People love to be complimented."

This goes on for… too long. It's better than working on presentation, but still, when the four hours are up I'm very ready for the day to be over.

I realize that I only have two more nights here before the Games start. _Finally. If I'm here any longer I seriously might go insane. This place is messing with my head… _it's a good thing I have a whole night to catch up on some more sleep.

But unfortunately for me, night never lasts very long.

My eyes fly open all at once – and I let out a high-pitched shriek. My prep team – all three of their distorted faces are hovering right above me. I cover my mouth with one hand and close my eyes. "You scared me!" I say accusingly. "Don't – don't _do_ that!"

They all ignore me. Quen grabs one of my arms and attempts to drag me out of bed, but she's so small that I can barely feel it. Sighing in frustration, I yank my arm away from her and crawl out of bed, glaring at them.

"There," I growl. "I'm up."

Loionia claps her hands together. "Yay! Now come on, Clove, there's so much we need to do to get you ready for your interview!"

I roll my eyes – none of them notice. "Fine. Let's go, then."

The prep team works on me for most of the morning. The first thing they do is completely erase me. There are no circles under my eyes, my hair is brushed, and my nails are filed. I look flawless, but at the same time, plain.

Then, it gets interesting. Amako works on my make-up – I can't see it, since I'm not allowed to see a mirror yet, apparently, but it seems like there's a lot of it. Quen, who's hand is surprisingly steady, paints my nails jet black. Loionia is somehow making my skin look darker – not a lot, but I look as if I've spent a lot of time in the sun lately.

Maio comes in right around when I'm starting to get hungry. "You're dismissed," he says, addressing the prep team. They nod quickly and scurry away.

"How are you, Clove?" he says, smiling.

I do my best to smile back. "Fine. A little tired, I guess, though."

He nods. "You should get to bed as soon as possible tonight, then. You've got a big day ahead, don't forget!"

I grin and roll my eyes. "How could I?"

"Super," Maio says. "Now, do you want to see what you're wearing or not?"

I jump to my feet eagerly, forgetting my hunger. "Show me!"

Maio leaves the room for a moment, and then he returns carrying a garment bag. "Close your eyes," he commands me. I obey him.

I feel something silky being wrapped around me. "What is it?" I ask curiously.

"Open your eyes."

I've never seen anything like this before. I whip around to look in the mirror. There's fabric wrapped around me… it goes over one shoulder, and there seem to be many layers, but it doesn't puff out or anything. It's just black with traces of – of course – pink and green. My makeup is very dramatic, very dark. I look dangerous. Beautiful and dangerous.

"It's called a sari," Maio tells me. "People used to wear them in a place called India, a very long time ago. I've been waiting for a special tribute to wear one."

I'm still staring into the mirror in awe. "Thank you," I say, barely audibly.

We eat a quick lunch, and then he touches up my makeup. The time seems to fly, and before I know it, Maio is ushering me to the elevator, where we meet with Enobaria, Yoh, Cato, his stylist, and all the members of our prep teams. We make it downstairs, and some of the other tributes are already there. I nod to Glimmer, Marvel, Shell, and Zen when I see them.

Right before all the tributes are supposed to walk onstage, Enobaria comes up to me and leans down to whisper in my ear. "Remember," she breathes, "what we discussed. Be yourself, and make sure they know you're going to win."

I nod confidently. "I've got this."

Taking my place on the stage, I feel as if I've been waiting for this moment for… my whole life. This is where I belong.

I'll be going third, of course, after Glimmer and Marvel. I grin to myself. This is where I have to make everyone love me – I need these sponsors!

Glimmer goes first, and I do have to admit that she looks fantastic. The crowd seems to love her, but I know that I'll be able to do better. Marvel acts very arrogant, completely convinced that he'll be returning home. And then my name is called.

"Clove Flair."

I stand up gracefully and make my way over to Caesar Flickerman. We shake hands, and I glance briefly out into the audience – they all look captivated. Obviously.

I do not smile. Not yet.

"So, Clove," Caesar begins. "What was going through your mind when you volunteered, back in District Two?"

I pretend to consider my answer carefully. "You see, Caesar, when you volunteer, you have to be completely focused. There were no trivial thoughts going through my mind, all I was thinking was _focus, Clove, focus._ That's what you have to do in order to follow your dreams."

I can hear the audience murmuring, but I don't look away from Caesar. He looks intrigued.

"Impressive. Now, what would you say your chances of winning these Games are?"

I roll my eyes, somewhat exasperated. "Come on, Caesar. I wouldn't have volunteered if I hadn't been completely sure I could win."

He tilts his head to the side. "You don't think there's anyone here who could potentially pose a threat to you?"

I glance up at Cato, and then look away quickly. "Not at all."

Caesar nods. "Okay, then. So tell us about your training score, Clove! A ten!"

"I'm very pleased with it," I say. "My mother always told me that I needed to get at least a nine to stand a chance, and I'm beyond thrilled that I've managed to exceed her expectations."

"Ah, yes, your parents," Caesar grins, leaning forward. "Do you think it improves your chances, being the daughter of two victors?"

"Absolutely!" I exclaim. "They've helped me to prepare for this in so many ways. There's no way I can lose."

"Your confidence is inspiring," he says. The audience clearly agrees with him. "Clove, what do you think of your stylist?"

My eyes meet Maio's – he's sitting in the front row. Turning back to Caesar, I say, "He's absolutely amazing. I've looked gorgeous this whole week, and it's all thanks to him. Look at this!" I turn slightly to face the audience, giving them a better view of the sari. "Maio said people used to wear these in a place called… India, I think. Isn't it nice?"

The audience starts cheering, and I flash them a smile. This sets them off completely.

"More than nice," Caesar says. "You look stunning, Clove! I'd say that your stylist is one of the best this year!"

I nod, agreeing with him. "Definitely. And thank you."

"We have time for one last question," Caesar says. "If you do indeed win, Clove, what would you like to do with your life?"

I don't have to think about this one at all. "That's easy. I've been thinking a lot this week, and I really think that I'd enjoy… designing clothes. Not like the rest of my district, but… clothes like Maio has made for me this past week. And I'd like to mentor other tributes, too, of course."

Caesar raises his eyebrows, and the audience cheers. "That's an unusual wish, Clove. I'm certain you'd be great at designing beautiful clothes. And you'd be a fantastic mentor."

"Thank you," I say. Then the buzzer goes off.

"So sorry, that's all the time we have. Best of luck to you, Clove Flair, tribute from District Two!"

I stand, smile at the audience one last time, and make my way back to my seat. Caesar calls Cato… and this interview frightens me.

He's just not himself. Cato is presenting himself as a ruthless tribute… well, I suppose he is… but he's not only ruthless, he's completely unfeeling. In three minutes, he describes how he'll eliminate the other tributes – many of whom are cowering in their seats – without seeming to even hear what he's saying. The audience seems to love him, though, which I guess is the point. But this isn't the Cato I know.

Yeah, he's ruthless. You have to be, to win the Hunger Games. But he's not a machine. In the past week, we've talked and trained together, he's even made me laugh a few times. But the Capitol doesn't know this.

I sigh inwardly. Cato's such an idiot! He should know that the audience would be screaming his name even louder if he hadn't changed his personality so much tonight.

I don't pay much attention to any of the interviews for Districts Three through Eleven, except for Shell and Zen. Shell plays the sly angle, adding a touch of arrogance. Zen is mostly silent, but like the rest of our alliance, makes it clear that he is capable of winning.

District Twelve. I hate her so much. That's the only thought that penetrates my mind as Fire Girl makes her way over to Caesar Flickerman in that… is that a dress? It looks like it's made up completely of jewels, and – yes, they're sticking with the fire theme. Even her hair – there's red braided into it.

This is an interview I need to watch. Or – no – but this is ridiculous! Oh my God, Fire Girl is pathetic!

She starts out almost okay, making the audience laugh, even, but – she's spinning. Like, actually _spinning,_ making the dress flair out… why is the audience cheering for her?

I close my eyes in frustration. How can they find this entertaining?

"So," Caesar says, "how about that training score. E-le-ven. Give us a hint what happened in there."

My eyes snap open.

Fire Girl looks uncertain. "Um… all I can say, is I think it was a first." Damn her.

There's no point in listening to the rest of this. Clearly, she isn't willing to give anything away, and I think I've got her personality pretty much down. Brainless, conceited, and I'd think she was totally talentless… if it weren't for that eleven…

When Fire Girl leaves the stage, it's to an unbelievable amount of applause. I clench my jaw. Really!

The positive thing was that honestly, it was a pretty forgettable three minutes. She didn't have anything special. Not like we Careers. The Capitol audience – more importantly, the _sponsors – _ they'll forget about her. I'm the one who will stand out in their minds… right?

Lover Boy is next – finally. This will all be over in another three minutes.

"Peeta, how is the Capitol a change from your life back in District Twelve?" Caesar asks.

Lover Boy smiles. "On the outside, everything looks completely different, but some things are actually pretty similar. At least there's bread here."

Bread? I roll my eyes. Of all the ridiculous things to say. Lover Boy continues talking… he's comparing some of the tributes to the breads from their districts. For some reason, I find myself actually enjoying listening to this – he's a surprisingly good speaker. Of course, that will get him nowhere when the Games begin…

"One last question, Peeta. Do you by chance have a girlfriend waiting for you back in District Twelve?"

_Oh, no,_ I think, horrified. I know what's coming – I've spent a lot of time watching the District Twelve tributes this past week. I'm not an idiot. When Lover Boy shakes his head slowly, my suspicions are confirmed. I look over at Cato. Clearly, he hasn't made the connection yet. He meets my eyes curiously, asking without words why I look so panicked. I shake my head and gesture almost unnoticeably back to the center of the stage.

Fire Girl hasn't put the pieces together yet, either. She's looking at Caesar – who's speaking now – and Lover Boy with her head slightly tilted, a naïve expression on her face.

I can't do anything but wait – there's no way to stop him. "I don't think it's going to work out," Lover Boy says, his voice rough. "Winning… won't help in my case."

"Why ever not?" Caesar asks, his eyebrows furrowed.

I want to curl up in a ball, because I know what's going to happen when he speaks next, however he phrases the words. Some small, irrational part of me thinks that making myself as small as possible will protect me from the bomb that is about to be set off.

"Because… because… she came here with me."

I was right, as usual.

After a few moments of shocked silence, the gullible Capitol audience loses it. They're screaming, even crying, full of sympathy for the boy on stage and the girl that sits just a few yards away from him – because they're idiots.

Next to me, Cato is staring at Lover Boy, completely dumbfounded. "What?" he whispers, so softly that I'm not sure if he said anything at all.

I don't hear the rest of the interview. When the cameras turn off and the tributes are dismissed, I grab Cato's arm and drag him to an elevator. When the District Ten tributes try to follow us in, I simply glare menacing at them, and they slowly back away.

"What the _hell_ was that?" Cato spits.

I shake my head, eyes tight. "Don't be so naïve. You really didn't see that coming?"

"Whatever! I don't care!" He punches the elevator door.

"You should," I snap. "Do you know how many sponsors we just lost, because of that stupid boy? A _lot,_ Cato!"

He presses his hands against his eyes in agitation. "I'm going to kill him."

I draw a shaky breath. "Good. Now let's go find our mentors."

* * *

><p><strong>I'm pretty pleased with how this came out. I'll say now that the next chapter is pretty short, but the one after that is long... it's the first day of the Games! :D <strong>

**Review, please! Tell me what you think of the interview. :)**

**~What the Quell**


	10. So Close

Chapter Ten: So Close

"Enobaria! Yoh!" I call out as Cato and I step off the elevator. There's no response.

"They must not be back yet," says Cato.

Fuming, I stalk to the dining room. "Well, they should be," I snap, grabbing two knives. "They're our _mentors—_" I fling the first knife at the wall, "and they should be here right now, because something _huge—_" I throw the other knife into the wall as well, "just happened, and we need to decide what we're going to _do_ about it!" I look around wildly, hoping to spot more knives. This is the only way I know how to let my anger out: through weapons.

"I think that's enough, Clove," Cato says pointedly. I glare at him, but before I can respond the elevator doors open.

"_What_," Enobaria seethes, stomping off the elevator, "could have _possibly_ possessed the two of you to _leave without us?_"

Cato raises his hands defensively. "It wasn't my idea."

I scowl at him. "Oh please. We're perfectly capable of being on the elevator for ten seconds without being babysat, Enobaria. It's not a big deal."

She glares at me. "Either way, you should have waited. We have a lot to discuss, in light of what just happened!"

"I don't see that it changes anything, really," Yoh comments. "I mean, yeah, Twelve might get a few more sponsors, but it's not going to make them any more dangerous. Cato and Clove just need to perform well at the Cornucopia tomorrow, and it'll all be fine."

"Excuse me!" I shriek defiantly. "Those sponsors might be the difference between winning and losing! They play a huge part in the Games!"

"Not as much as you might think," argues Yoh. "There have been plenty of victors who've had barely any sponsors at all!"

I'm beyond words at this point – I'm just staring at him.

Enobaria cuts in. "What matters is that many Capitol citizens are going to be very supportive of the District Twelve tributes this year. Which means that you need to do whatever it takes to get rid of them early on. Got it? Take them out at the Cornucopia. The further into the Games they make it, the more of a threat they're going to be! Make sure they don't get to that point!"

She continues to glower at Cato and me after she finishes her speech. "We'll do that," Cato says finally. I nod in agreement.

"Good," Enobaria growls.

The elevator doors open again, and we all turn to see Maio step off the elevator, closely followed by Cato's stylist. "Fantastic job, you two!" he shouts. The next few minutes are filled with hugs and congratulations, but the whole time, I can feel Enobaria's eyes on me.

"Clove," Maio says abruptly. "Let's go on the roof."

I meet Enobaria's eyes, but she just shrugs. "Be back in ten minutes. You need a lot of sleep tonight." I nod obediently.

Maio leads me back to the elevator, and then to the roof – but I don't even notice where we are because it's so _cold_. My teeth are chattering and my lips are probably turning purple.

"When you first came here, I noticed you didn't have a district token," Maio says quietly. "Why is that?"

I shrug at him, keeping my arms wrapped tightly around my torso in a futile attempt to block out the freezing wind. "What's the point? It's not like I'm ever going to go back to District Two. When I win, I want to live in the Capitol. _This_ is my home, not Two."

He smiles. "I thought you'd say something like that." He reaches into his pocket and takes out a silver chain. From it dangles a small circular disk. Squinting at it, I see that engraved upon it is a representation of the Capitol: several tall buildings surrounded by the words _Panem et Circenses._

"Turn it over," Maio says.

Four small words. _Clove Flair, 74__th__ Victor._

I try to speak, to thank my stylist for this amazing gift. But I can't seem to make my mouth work, no matter how hard I try.

"I've already cleared it with the review board," Maio says, oblivious to my dilemma. "It's not against the rules or anything."

"Thank you," I whisper. I throw my arms around him and grin. I never gave having a district token any thought, but this… is perfect.

Five minutes later, we're back on the District Two floor. Enobaria is waiting for us, tapping her foot impatiently. Yoh and Cato stand behind her, along with Sparkle Trix, who is humming mindlessly. Cato's stylist is there, too, of course.

"Finally," Enobaria says, but there's no malice in her voice. I know why. This is where I say goodbye to her.

The seven of us stand there in awkward silence before Maio speaks up. "We'll go," he says hastily, grabbing Cato's stylist's arm. "Clove, Cato… we'll see you in the morning. Yoh, Enobaria… tomorrow afternoon." The stylists leave the room quickly, and the silence continues for another minute.

"Well… bye, then," Yoh says. I roll my eyes – he _would_ come up with something like that. Cato walks over to him, and Yoh bends down to whisper in his ear.

I turn to Enobaria and raise my eyebrows. "So…"

"You know what to do," she says brusquely. "Find your allies. Kill as many as you can at the Cornucopia. Especially Twelve, if you get the chance. Then… win."

I take a deep breath. "I will. I promise."

Enobaria gives me a half-smile. "Good. I'll see you in a couple of weeks, then."

Yoh moves away from Cato to stand awkwardly next to Enobaria, and I back away from them. "Bye," I whisper. Cato just nods. Neither of the mentors say a word – they just turn around and walk away slowly.

Sparkle is last to leave, surprisingly. "Bye!" she says, then gives us a cheery wave. "Maybe I'll see one of you soon!" Then she leaves too.

I roll my eyes at our eccentric escort. "What a freak," I mutter.

Cato nods, staring after Sparkle as if she's crazy.

"I guess we'd better go to sleep, then," I say haltingly.

"I guess so," he replies. "Um… see you in the morning."

"See you."

I walk quickly back to my room and climb in bed. There's no way I can lie here awake all night. I need rest. _Tomorrow I'll be in the arena,_ I think. Grinning to myself, I force my eyes to shut…

"Clove! Come on, time to get up, it's a big day!"

My eyes open as fast as though I've been doused in ice water. I throw the covers off of me and scramble out of my bed, nearly falling to the floor in the process. I hastily get dressed in the casual outfit that lies on my dresser, and then I meet Maio in the hallway.

The morning goes by in a rush. I honestly can't say exactly what happens – I eat a quick breakfast, but don't pay attention to what it is. We – Maio and I – are suddenly on a helicopter – and a woman pierces my arm with a sharp needle, inserting my tracker.

Another new outfit. Green shirt. Tan pants. Black jacket. Brown shoes.

Time slows down again and I find myself sitting in a small room with Maio. There's a circular plate next to me – oh my God – we're here already?

I bite my lip.

"Are you excited?" Maio asks. I nod and bounce up and down in my seat.

"Do you want anything? Food, water?" he presses.

"Sure," I say, and accept a large glass of ice-cold water. I drink it in large mouthfuls, savoring the flavor.

"Don't forget anything Enobaria told you," Maio encourages me. "You'll be great. You'll win – I can feel it."

I smile at him. "I know."

"Will all tributes please step onto their plates at this time. The Games will be starting in precisely three minutes." It isn't Maio speaking this time – a cool female voice has just informed me that the best day of my life will officially begin in just a few minutes.

I jump up and stand on my metal plate excitedly. I'm so close…

"Oh!" Maio exclaims. "I almost forgot – I'm to wish you luck from the prep team. Not that you'll need it, of course, but…"

I smile gratefully. "Tell them all that I can't wait to see them again."

He nods solemnly. "I'll do that."

"Thanks."

There's a loud noise right above me, and I look up to see that I'm being incased in a large glass cylinder. I raise my chin and throw my shoulders back, determined to look confident and proud as I enter the arena.

The ride up is very short. My heart is pounding – but not from fear. I close my eyes for a brief moment, and when I open them again, the cylinder is gone, and I'm in the place I've been dreaming of for years. The arena.

The moment is made perfect when I hear the voice of the legendary Hunger Games announcer, Claudius Templesmith…

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"

* * *

><p><strong>I have no idea why I'm posting this. I updated two days ago... oh well. Anyway, I would love it if you guys would review this chapter. It's not one of my best, but I had to get through it so the Games can begin! And yeah, it's short, but I really wanted to get this part over with.<strong>

**Please, please review. It would mean so much to me if I wake up tomorrow morning and have some emails telling me people reviewed.**

**Chapter 11 will be up in a few days... not sure when exactly. (If I get lots of reviews, maybe I'll post it sooner!) ;)**

**~What the Quell**


	11. An Unexpected Replacement

Chapter Eleven: An Unexpected Replacement

_Focus._

I hadn't been lying to Caesar Flickerman. When something like this is happening, there's nothing more important.

_Focus._

I look around until I see Cato – he's just a few tributes away from me. I don't even allow myself to examine my surroundings until I meet the eyes of all my other allies, who, thankfully, are relatively close. Then I do look behind me, and to the sides, and I grin.

No – no emotions, not yet.

_Focus._

Instead of thinking about the fact that this arena thrills me, I quickly run over the pros and cons of it in my head. Trees – that's good, I've always been a decent climber. A lake – that's more than good, we'll need a reliable source of water, and our alliance will most likely set up camp right here, unless something goes horribly wrong.

No, I won't think like that.

_Focus._

The gong rings out.

Without hesitation, I leap from my plate and sprint towards the gleaming Cornucopia, immediately spotting a large knife a few yards away from me. Picking it up, I run the rest of the distance to the Cornucopia, where the rest of my allies are already waiting. Glimmer is still weaponless.

"Here," I call out to her, and pick up an axe that's lying at my feet. She hurries over to me and grabs the axe's handle gratefully.

"Clove!" Cato shouts. I whip around to face him, and he points to something lying on the ground next to Shell. It's a small pile of knives, just waiting for me.

"Thanks!" I grab all the knives that I can fit in my left hand and look around to see who was foolish enough to follow us to the mouth of the Cornucopia. And I see her – Fire Girl – she's trying to wrestle a stupid _backpack_ away from the boy from Nine.

Best not to waste time – or knives. He doesn't see it coming, but one moment he's still fighting with Fire Girl… the next, he's on the ground, my knife in his back.

Fire Girl looks up at me, and there's nothing but pure terror in her expression.

_Gotcha,_ I think contemptuously. I don't expect her to try and fight me, so when she jumps up as if electrocuted and sprints towards the woods, I'm not surprised in the least. My knife is faster, though.

"_Damn!"_ I hiss furiously as Fire Girl somehow manages to protect her head with the stupid backpack. _Should've killed her first,_ I think bitterly. But at least the boy's out of the way.

I don't follow her, though it would be easy. But right now, the rest of my allies are back there fighting, and they need my help – not that I care about that, but damn it all if they take all the glory. My glory.

Glimmer is the closest one to me – she's about to overcome the girl from Seven. "Hey there," I say dangerously to my ally's opponent. She falters momentarily, and the distraction allows Glimmer to bury the axe in her forehead.

"Good teamwork," she says, grinning. I grin back and even go as far as to high-five her.

Marvel – he and Cato are standing back-to-back, giving their all against three tributes. I rush over to them, not knowing if they need help, but needing to fight. Marvel is pretty much on his own against the girl from Three – I can't believe he hasn't managed to kill her yet – and Cato is simultaneously fighting they boy from Six and the girl from Ten.

From just ten yards away, it's easy to take aim at the boy from Six – who appears to be the bigger threat to my district partner, if not much of one – and fling the knife at him. No, not in a fatal place, yet, because Cato would kill me for stealing his victory against the tributes. The blade embeds itself in the boy's upper thigh, and he howls in pain. Cato quickly ends his life and turns his full attention to the girl, who somehow lacked the sense to run while she had the chance.

Who else is there? Shell, she's almost finished playing with the girl from Six. I hear a scream behind me and know that Cato has just defeated his other opponent. There's no sign of Zen anywhere.

"Hey, Clove," Cato drawls. I turn around to see him holding on tightly to a struggling little girl who I recognize as the one I terrorized during training. The girl from Nine.

"I thought you'd like the honor."

I smirk. "Oh dear," I say in a mock worried voice. "What are you going to do now, sweetheart?"

There are tears in the girl's eyes, and I roll my own. "Get over it, girly. Did you really think you had a chance of winning these Games?" The tears come faster. I say softly, "Well, think again."

She dies before she has a chance to scream.

It's over, apparently. There are several dead bodies scattered around us, and I smirk. That was almost _too_ easy…

Wait. Zen's still missing.

"Where's Zen?" I ask sharply.

It's Shell who answers me. "Th – Thresh got him. Zen was fighting the boy from Seven, I think, and right after he killed him… well…"

Cato scowls. "Fantastic. We aren't even an hour into this thing and we're already an ally short of what we should be."

A new voice, one that doesn't belong with us, sounds from a few yards away. "I might be able to fix that."

Lover Boy. It's him – he's here.

Why the hell is he here?

I spring at him immediately. Glimmer rushes to help me, and within thirty seconds, he's pinned on the ground. I'm on top of him, one knee against each of his shoulders, and Glimmer holds down his legs.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you this second," I whisper threateningly, "after what you said to the whole country last night?"

"Katniss," he says simply.

Oh.

"What about her?" Cato says sharply. I'm honestly surprised he hasn't killed Lover Boy yet, but he's simply stood by, watching Glimmer and me attack.

Lover Boy looks exasperated, as though we should've figured this out by now. "Oh, come on! You don't think I meant what I said last night? Please," he scoffs. "What would you have done? She's one of those people you need to have any sort of advantage over in these situations. Guess what? I do."

I exchange a shocked look with Cato. "How do we know you're telling the truth?" I spit at Lover Boy. "That you're not lying?"

He sighs. "Because the truth makes no sense. What reason would I have for liking Katniss? Back in District Twelve, we're from very different places. People like me just don't mix with people like her. I never spoke to her before the reaping!"

I meet Cato's eyes again. Could Lover Boy be telling the truth?

Marvel glares. "I don't believe him. He's just trying to get in with us, and then he'll kill us all in our sleep!"

"Yeah," Shell says angrily. "He's lying!"

I bite my lip, because I can't decide whether to believe Lover Boy or not. If he's telling us the truth, then it's obvious he's a very good liar, he must've been in order to fool us before – and, well… that's the problem. Plus, Enobaria said to kill Fire Girl _and_ Lover Boy… I wish I could talk to her, just for a minute, and ask what she thinks about this…

"Let him stay," Cato says abruptly. I stare at him in shock – I would think that Cato, of all people, would want Lover Boy's death immediately.

Bu at the same time I know that no one will oppose his verdict.

He gives me a _"Well?"_ look, and I hastily add, "Yes, let him stay. He might be able to help us. Since it sounds like he wants Fire Girl dead too."

Lover Boy nods. "I can't stand her. She needs to die."

"It's settled, then," Cato says shortly. "Now we need to get out of here so they can collect the bodies. Everyone grab a weapon – we're going hunting."

We spend quite a while picking out weapons. Whatever we don't take with us will be divided up later tonight, or, more likely, tomorrow morning. Cato and I will do that – I don't trust the rest of them to divide everything properly…

I search the ground for knives, and there are plenty. I grab a large backpack lying near the Cornucopia and fill it, only adding a few bottles of water in addition to the knives. Cato has some spears, and – a sword. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. No one uses swords anymore…

Glimmer has several axes tied around her waist, and a backpack slung over one shoulder. Shell has a mace, an awl, and… some rope.

"Going to make some traps for us, then?" I ask her.

She nods, smirking. "Tonight, probably, when we get back. But it's best to have this, just in case…"

Marvel only has a spear. God, I still hate him – I really can't wait until we have the number of tributes down to eight or so, and I can kill him…

Lover Boy has a spear… and a knife. "Can you use that knife, Lover Boy?" I try to sound intimidating, but I'm actually curious.

He shrugs. "Well enough." He tosses it at a tree, and it actually sticks in the bark.

I nod approvingly. "Not bad. Maybe you aren't completely useless."

"Let's go. We need to get out of here anyway, so they can collect the bodies," Cato calls.

"Wait!" Shell cries. She hurries over to the mouth of the Cornucopia and grabs something. When she returns, she has more supplies. "These might help." She tosses me something and I catch it reflexively. It's a flashlight.

"Good thinking!" I say as she hands the same thing to everyone else. I'm further impressed when she also hands out torches, which were apparently right by the flashlights. Maybe Shell isn't as bad as I initially thought.

"Okay, we're all set," Cato says. I can tell he really wants to get to the woods. "Let's go!"

So we do.

But after scouring the woods for at least four hours, we've got nothing. Nothing. Eleven tributes are dead, no more than after the bloodbath. This is bad for a lot of reasons, but one of the worst parts is that everyone's temper has become rather… short. The only excitement we have is when the faces of the dead are shown in the sky – one of them being Zen, of course – and we can celebrate our kills and congratulate each other – but that only lasts a few minutes.

"I'm freezing!" whines Shell. I agree with her, and even though I'm not stupid enough to say anything, I'm clutching my jacket around me tightly.

"Shut up!" snarls Cato. "It doesn't matter! Maybe if you quit bitching we'll actually find someone out here!"

I scowl. "Maybe we should just call it a night, Cato. I mean, we kind of wasted a lot of time picking out weapons, maybe they're all just too far ahead of us. We can try again in the morning, really early when they're all asleep…"

He shakes his head so violently that, somewhat childishly, I'm afraid it's going to fall off. "No! We'll find someone!"

And so we continue on, and I, for one, am in a bad mood.

Until we see it – a tall column of smoke rising in the distance. We all stand there in shock, for a moment, because who would be stupid enough to build a _fire_ when it's this dark?

"What are we waiting for?" Cato roars after a moment. "Let's _go!_"

We don't run, not yet. The smoke is actually pretty far away, it'll take us a couple of hours to get there – and that's if we're lucky. Besides that – as much as it sucks, well, we're _loud._ It's not something any of us can help. Cato, Marvel, and Lover Boy especially can barely walk without making ridiculous amounts of noise. Running would alert the fire starter that we're coming before we get anywhere close to him. Or her.

It's almost dawn when we finally get there. And when we do, it's impossible not to run. Because this is our first kill of the night – or morning, depending on how you look at it – and it's so nice to finally succeed.

The girl from District Eight – the one I marked as an idiot when I watched her reaping – clearly, I was right – is still half asleep when we enter the small clearing. She sees us, then, and lets outa high-pitched shriek of horror. Glimmer and Marvel run to the other side of the clearing, so she's surrounded, and we begin to close in.

"Please!" she sobs. "Please – I don't want to die! I want to go home! Please!"

"Right," Marvel scoffs. "As if you ever had a chance! You're going to die. Stop crying about it, you can't stop us."

This only makes her cry harder. "No – no, please! I – I can help you!" the girl says feebly.

"How?" I say, pretending to consider it.

"I – I can – g-guard…"

"I don't think so," sneers Cato.

"No – no – PLEASE!"

Cato doesn't give her an easy end, a quick one. The spear enters her stomach and comes out, and she screams – _loudly._ But I know she's not dead right away. No cannon, for one thing. She just lies on the ground, whimpering…

Right now, Cato's not the person I've known this past week. He's the one the people of Panem were introduced to last night during his interview.

"Nice one," Marvel comments. Shell laughs.

"Twelve down and eleven to go!" Cato whoops.

I walk over to the girl – she's fallen silent – and grab the small backpack that lies beside her. It's empty. "Nothing," I say. Shell grumbles a bit, but really, we have everything we need back at camp.

"Better clear out so they can get the body before it starts stinking," Cato says. I have to grin.

We move on, but I stop when we've only gone about fifty yards. "Shouldn't we have heard a cannon by how?" I ask uncertainly.

"I'd say yes," Glimmer answers. "Nothing to prevent them from going in immediately."

"Unless she isn't dead," Marvel cuts in.

Cato glares at him. "She's dead. I stuck her myself."

"Then where's the cannon?" Shell says impatiently.

"Someone should go back," Marvel insists. "Make sure the job's done."

As much as I dislike Marvel, I have to agree with him on this one. "Yeah, we don't want to have to track her down twice."

"I said she'd dead!" Cato says furiously.

"Then why's she still lying there?" Glimmer says, pointing her flashlight in the direction of the body.

"Because she's not dead, obviously!" Marvel says, exasperated.

"Shut up already!" I tell him. He's starting to irritate me. Again.

"As if you know better, you stupid girl," he sneers.

"Don't talk to her like that!" Cato shouts.

"Yeah, Marvel, you have no place to call anyone stupid!" says Shell, scowling at him.

"We're wasting time!" I spin around – oh. It's just Lover Boy – I forgot about him. "I'll go finish her and let's move on!"

I blink at him. Why would Lover Boy volunteer to go kill the girl? He's the one that seemed the least enthusiastic while we were hunting…

"Go on, then, Lover Boy," Cato says challengingly. "See for yourself."

When he's out of sight, Marvel rounds on the rest of us. "Why don't we just kill him now and get it over with?" he hisses.

I shrug. "Let him tag along. What's the harm?" I ask rhetorically. "And he's handy with that knife." Well, judging based on one throw, but still…

"Besides, he's our best chance of finding her," Cato says in a low voice. We all know he means Fire Girl.

"Why?" asks Glimmer curiously. "You think she bought into that sappy romance stuff?" She sounds doubtful.

Shell seems irritated. "She might've. Seemed pretty simpleminded to me. Every time I think about her spinning around in that dress, I want to puke." Shell arranges her face into a naïve expression and twirls around once in a circle.

"Wish we knew how she got that eleven," I mutter resentfully.

"Bet you Lover Boy knows," Cato points out.

"Shh!" Glimmer hisses. Lover Boy's back.

"Was she dead?" asks Cato aggressively.

"No," he says, and Cato looks sullen. "But she is now." Yes, there's the cannon. "Ready to move on?"

We start running – finally. "Why don't we just head back to camp?" I say. "We can get some rest, and then we'll divide up the supplies in a few hours…"

"Good idea," Cato huffs.

It doesn't take nearly as long to get back to the lake as it did to reach the girl from Eight, since we were searching the other side of the forest. We're back at camp in less than an hour – and we're not alone.

The boy from District Three gasps when he sees us and tries to run, clutching the pack of dried beef he's just taken from the Cornucopia. But Glimmer is too fast for him.

"And where do you think you're going, exactly?" she says sweetly, catching him in a headlock.

"St – stop! I-I can – "

"Help us, right?" I scoff. "Sorry, kid, we just heard that one an hour ago. It's not going to work, unfortunately for you."

He gasps again as Glimmer throws him to the ground. "N-no, I really can!" he stutters, trying to scamper backwards, away from us.

I step in front of him. "How's that?"

The boy looks around one last time, hoping for a way out – seeing none, he blurts, "I can reactivate the land mines!"

Silence.

"_What?"_ I gasp. "You – you can – "

"Reactivate the landmines," he says, clearly relieved that we haven't killed him yet. "To – to guard the supplies, or for whatever you want, really! District Three, we learn this kind of thing! See, I really can help!"

"Stay there," I order him, and I motion for all my allies to gather around Cato and me.

"What do you think?" I whisper.

Shell's indifferent. "I don't care. But you might want to consider the fact that there are twelve of us left, if we take him then there will only be five people we can kill."

Marvel glares at us all. "I say we kill him. I doubt he'll be able to do what he says…"

"It's settled, then," Cato announces. "He's staying." Marvel looks furious.

"You really hate him, don't you?" I mutter so that only Cato can hear. He nods tersely.

"Alright, kid. You've got three days. If it's not done by then, we're going to kill you, and that's that," Cato says to the boy.

"Thank you!" he cries. "I'll – I'll get to work right away."

"You'd better," I say sternly. To everyone else, I say, "Grab a sleeping bag and go to sleep. I'll keep watch."

We all walk over to where the tents are, and I sit down in the mouth of the Cornucopia. Cato follows me.

"You can sleep," I tell him. "Don't worry about it."

He shakes his head. "No, I'm not tired. And I'm not stupid enough to go to sleep here, for sure."

I grin. "Fair enough."

Cato sighs. "Do you think it was a good idea to let the boy stay?"

"Which one?" I ask. Without waiting for an answer, I continue. "I think Lover Boy might actually be able to help us. He really seems to hate Fire Girl. And… I know you only let the kid stay because Marvel wanted to kill him, but think about it! If he really _can_ reactivate the landmines…" I trail off.

"Thanks, Clove," he says, smiling.

I smile back. "You know, I think this is going to be a lot easier than I thought."

* * *

><p><strong>The Games! I was really nervous about writing the bloodbath scene, since it's so important... I wasn't sure if I could do it justice. I'm pretty happy with how this chapter came out, though. Before anyone says anything, I know a common way of getting Peeta in with the Careers is to have him kill the boy from Four, but I don't think that's very realistic. Peeta is supposed to be good with words, so I figured he'd be able to talk his way into the alliance. Also... I know the bloodbath seemed short. Think of it this way: the time probably passed very quickly for the Careers. It wasn't really two minutes long, obviously...<strong>

**Review, please! Since this is such an important chapter I need feedback! :) **

**~What the Quell**


	12. Hunting

Chapter Twelve: Hunting

I don't sleep. At all. Neither does Cato – both of us just sit at the mouth of the Cornucopia until the sun is high in the sky. Our allies haven't stirred – clearly, they're all exhausted, but we need to get back to the woods.

"Should we scare them a little?" Cato asks me, his eyes wicked.

The idea is tempting, but not brilliant. "That'd be great… but they'd probably kill us."

He sighs. "True. Come on."

Shell and Marvel both grumble a little when we wake them, but eventually all four of our allies climb out of their sleeping bags. They stand in front of us, rubbing their eyes, clearly unwilling to leave camp.

"We're splitting up," Cato announces. This causes some surprise – Career packs usually stick together while hunting. But Cato doesn't seem to care. "Clove and I will take the right side of the forest, and Glimmer, Shell, and Lover Boy will take the left. You," he says, turning to Marvel, "will stay here and guard. Make sure the kid is working on the mines, got that? And if you kill him, _we_ will kill _you._"

Marvel starts to protest, but I cut him off. "We haven't forgotten your little stunt in training. Be grateful it's not worse."

"Fine," he mutters resentfully. "Whatever."

I roll my eyes. "Let's go, Cato. Everyone, be back here by dark."

I swear, we cover every inch of that forest in the next few hours. Of the right side, anyway. But there's no one there. Glimmer, Shell, and Lover Boy must not be having any success either, since no cannons have gone off.

"Where could they all _be?_" I ask Cato in frustration.

He glares at the ground. "How should I know? The important thing is that they're not here."

"Well, that's a bit of a problem, isn't it?" I snap. Then I look up at the sky. "We could use some help, here! Maybe you'd like to do something to draw the tributes together? Hmm?" I'm directing my words at the Gamemakers, of course. It's a bit of a risk, being so disrespectful, but I'm so frustrated that it'll be worth it… if they listen.

Nothing. "Wow," Cato says sarcastically. "Look at that! Come on, Clove, did you really expect them to listen to you?"

"I had to do something!" I exclaim. "Cato, we've been out here for _hours_ and we haven't found anyone. And the others haven't either, obviously, or we'd have heard a cannon. I'm sick of this! You know, my mother is watching, _right now,_ and she's probably calling me a failure."

I wince – why did I say that? I silently plead that we're not on screen right now, because I really don't want all of Panem to know that my mother is probably disappointed in me, or that I even care what she thinks.

Still, it wasn't a lie.

Cato's expression doesn't soften. "We can't give up. They're out here somewhere…"

"But where?" I sigh.

Are the others having as much trouble as we are? They must be… or we'd know. We would've heard a cannon. Unless… unless they've found someone and don't want to make their last minutes – or hours – easy.

"Maybe… maybe they're just… giving someone a hard time?" I suggest.

"I doubt it," he mutters. "Shell would enjoy that, but Glimmer doesn't really seem the type to draw kills out… neither does Lover Boy."

"True." I glance up at the sky – it's not quite dark yet, but it will be soon. "We should start heading back. We can go slowly and see if we meet anybody."

Cato scowls. "Fine. But if we don't find anyone tomorrow, I'm just going to kill Marvel. Or else the Gamemakers will send something to kill us _all._"

I smirk a little. "Can I help?"

"No chance, little girl," he says loftily. But I think he's joking.

"Fine. But I want Little Eleven," I inform him.

His eyebrows furrow. "Why?"

I shrug. "Just because."

Cato rolls his eyes. "They call _me_ crazy."

"Shh!" I hiss, flinging my arm in front of him and forcing him to stop.

Did I really see that, or am I just desperate? Because I'm sure there was a flash of red – could it have been the girl from District Five, who our alliance failed to take out at the Cornucopia?

I press a finger to my lips and silently motion for Cato to follow me. We creep silently forward for a few minutes, and then we double back – there's no sign of the girl. Finally, I'm forced to conclude that she was never there.

"Who did you think it was?" Cato asks curiously.

"District Five," I tell him sullenly.

"Oh," he says, and I see understanding flash in his eyes. "Red hair, right?"

I nod. "I thought I saw… well, I was wrong."

"We'd better head back," he grumbles. "The others are probably there by now."

I only reluctantly agree, although just a few minutes ago I was the one suggesting that we return to camp. "Let's go, then…"

The others are back before us. When we enter the clearing, Glimmer is practicing her aim with axes on some trees, Lover Boy is sitting by the lake, Shell is looking through the supplies, Marvel appears to be sulking, and the kid is digging something up near the Cornucopia.

"No luck either?" I ask Glimmer unnecessarily. She shakes her head.

"Nope." She appears to be as frustrated as I am – her jaw is clenched tight and she's throwing her axes with brute force. "I don't get it."

"Me neither," I sigh.

Cato walks over to us. "I'm going hunting," he announces.

I stare at him in disbelief. "Now?" I ask. "We've only been back two minutes!"

"Now," he confirms. He lowers his voice so only I can hear. "I know you're sick of hunting today. I'm taking Marvel, Shell, and Lover Boy with me. You and Glimmer can sort the supplies, if you want. Just make sure the kid keeps working."

I smile, relieved that I won't have to go back to the forest today. And out of all our allies – besides Cato himself – Glimmer is one I would have chosen if I'd known I'd have to spend a long period of time in the company of one of them. "Thanks," I whisper.

Cato nods. "Good." He rounds up the other three and says, "Right, we're going back out there. We'll come back in a couple of hours."

"Are you serious?" Shell whines. "We just got back!" Lover Boy doesn't comment, but Marvel actually looks excited. That at least makes sense, since he hasn't been hunting all day.

"Glimmer, Clove – sort the supplies while we're gone, will you?" Cato says, ignoring Shell. "We don't want to have to worry about that later on."

Glimmer shrugs. "Sure." I'm pleased to see that she doesn't object to staying behind – I don't really want to be here alone. And sorting the supplies will be boring, but less so if I have someone to talk to.

I shake my head, a bit frustrated with myself. I need to stop thinking of my allies as worth more than the other tributes. I don't seem to have a problem with that when it comes to Marvel, Shell, and Lover Boy, but as for Cato and Glimmer… well, they seem too much like friends, and I can't have that…

But… I'll still be able to kill them if it comes to that. I still want – need – to win. It's my destiny, and I refuse to let anything stand in my way. If that means killing Cato and Glimmer, then… there's nothing I can do about it.

There's one problem. The audience. I can't… I can't let them think I'm close friends with any of the other tributes. That's the kind of thing that will seem rebellious. Rebellion is the one thing the Capitol is afraid of – it's not that they couldn't handle it, but it would cause a hell of a lot of trouble.

Well… that's only half the problem. Because at the same time, I can't be too indifferent when it comes to my allies. Either they'll suspect me of something and kill me – I wouldn't be able to win a fight against all of them – or the Capitol will think I'm an unlikeable tribute, and the Gamemakers will be pressured into killing me off, making sure that I don't become the victor. It's important that the audience loves me.

I slowly turn to face Glimmer once the others have disappeared into the woods. "We'd better get started," I sigh. "There's a lot to sort through."

She wrinkles her nose. "Fun. It's better than hunting, I guess, though."

I look at her, confused. "You don't like hunting?"

"It's not that," she says slowly. "I do. But… it's just so… frustrating!" she exclaims. "We haven't found anyone all day, I swear we looked _everywhere_ – I even got Shell to shut up for a couple of hours, even though Lover Boy is so loud. I… I don't want to seem like a failure, you know? And when we hunt, and we don't find anyone… well, that's exactly what I am."

My respect for Glimmer rises more than I would have thought possible – because I can relate. "I know exactly what you mean," I assure her. "I was about ready to _scream_ when I was out there with Cato earlier. Plus, after a few hours, we were both tired, and grumpy, and it just got to be… too much."

She sighs in relief. "Thank God it's not just me. I was kind of worried…"

"It's not," I say, grinning. "Now let's go see what we have to get through today… you know they're not going to be happy if they get back and we've been slacking off."

"Probably not," Glimmer agrees. "Do you think they'll find anyone?" she asks as we walk over to the Cornucopia.

I bite my lip. "As much as I hate to say it… no. I don't think any of us will until the Gamemakers come up with something to draw us together."

"How is this possible?" she groans. "Here I was, thinking that the first few days of the Games would be some of the best, and – "

" – and it's boring as hell," I agree. "I know."

"We've been reduced to sorting the supplies," she scoffs. "Never would have seen that coming."

"Me neither," I admit. "But I'm not complaining. I think Cato could tell I didn't really want to hunt anymore. I'm glad."

"Are you two friends?" Glimmer asks curiously. "He doesn't seem like the type of person to help you like that – to help anyone at all, really."

I don't really know how to answer that. "We're not friends," I say carefully. "We're district partners. I guess that counts for something."

She snorts. "Maybe for you," she mutters. "Not for Marvel and me. I can't stand him, and he seems to hate me even more."

Grateful that she didn't press for details about Cato, I reply quickly. "Oh, please. Marvel doesn't like _anybody._"

She smirks. "And no one likes him. Hmm, there seems to be some sort of pattern here…"

I laugh loudly. "You're right." Then I reluctantly look at the mountain of supplies waiting in front of us. We're only putting off the inevitable. "Let's get started," I say sadly.

Glimmer giggles. "Wow, you sound excited."

"Very," I mutter. "Come on – we don't know when they'll be back, and we need to have some progress by then, so we'd better hurry."

"Okay," she sighs, and we circle the supplies. "So… how do you want to start this?"

After a few minutes, we've come up with a basic plan. It's Glimmer's idea, and it's actually very creative. But before we do anything, we need to check with the kid.

"Hey, kid," I say as I approach him. My tone is not friendly. "When can you have all this done by?"

He looks up nervously. "At most, two more days. But I should be done by tomorrow night, if nothing happens between now and then that would keep me from working."

"Good," I say. Then I have him show us exactly where the mines will guard – we tell him to set it up so that it will surround the supplies, leaving a few paths so we can reach our bounty safely – that's to say, without being blown up.

"Perfect," Glimmer breathes as we walk away. "This is going to be so easy."

The setup is relatively simple. We have to remove all the supplies from the Cornucopia, of course. The supplies won't be sorted in the way Cato expects, but it'll be very effective in killing other tributes. We'll build a huge pyramid – and then we'll spread some supplies around it in a similar manner to the way it was at the bloodbath. When we find some netting in the giant horn, we decide to lay it out over the supplies, to guard it from birds if nothing else. If any tribute tries to steal supplies – well. It won't go well for them. The only downside is that we won't get the chance to kill them ourselves… but it'll be worth it.

The time goes by quickly, and by the time we're finished the sun is setting. However, I find that I'm really, really tired. And that is bad. I swore I wouldn't sleep in the arena, but that's going to be difficult if the Games continue at this pace.

I'm stifling a yawn for the third time when Cato, Shell, Marvel, and Lover Boy return, all looking sullen. I don't bother asking – no cannons.

"I'm tired," Shell moans. "Let's just go to sleep and try again in the morning."

"Agreed," Lover Boy says tiredly. "We won't get anything done if we can't keep our eyes open."

He does have a point. "I'll guard," I say wearily. Even though I'm about to pass out. I haven't slept for too long…

As the others climb into their tents – the four who went hunting were very pleased to find them set up – Cato approached me. "Clove, you can't guard _again,_" he says, sounding almost concerned. "You haven't slept at all since the Games started."

"I'll live," I say. "I did tell you I wasn't going to sleep here. Besides, you haven't slept either."

He shrugs. "I can go a long time without sleep."

"Go to bed, Cato," I sigh. Arguing with him is making me even more tired.

"Forget it," he says sternly. "You're not guarding. Get in the damn tent, Clove!"

"You know what?" I snap. "Fine. I'll sleep. If you kill me, Cato, I swear I'll come back as a ghost and haunt you for the rest of your life!" I'm trying to sound aggressive, but Cato just looks amused.

"Sure. Now go get some sleep. We need you to be rested tomorrow. I have a feeling something big is going to happen."

I don't say another word – I just crawl into my tent, exhausted. Cato's right. The Games can't become boring – and there have been no deaths since last night. Surely, something exciting will happen tomorrow…

It takes me about seven seconds to fall asleep – those seven seconds are filled with anticipation of what tomorrow will bring.

* * *

><p><strong>So, not my best chapter, but not the worst either. Please, please, please review! I love hearing what you guys think. :)<strong>

**Chapter 13 will be up in a few days, I'm not totally sure when.**

**~What the Quell**


	13. It's About Time

Chapter Thirteen: It's About Time

"I've been thinking," Cato mutters to me after he wakes me up. "This whole thing, allying with Lover Boy… I think after we get Fire Girl we should kill him. He won't be useful to us anymore."

"Good," I reply. "Have you realized that there are twelve tributes left in the arena and our alliance is made up of seven of them? Think about it. If we kill off all the others it's just going to turn into another bloodbath – and as fun as that would be, that's not really how the Games are supposed to work."

He grins. "So, if we can find Fire Girl in the next couple of days and kill her, we'll get rid of Lover Boy too. Then… once the mines are set up we might as well kill the kid, since there won't be any point in keeping him around any longer. Then… then Marvel. He's the least useful out of all of us, and he gets on my nerves."

I consider this. "Sounds good to me. Who else is out there?"

"Four of them," Cato says. "Both from Eleven. The girl you thought you saw yesterday. The boy from Ten, with the bad foot."

"Good," I say. "We'll get to a couple of them, and then I think we should get rid of Shell. Maybe we should eliminate Eleven first, since Thresh is probably the biggest threat."

Cato scowls – I know he's still irritated with Thresh. "Right. After we kill Shell, we'll get the other two – Five and Ten – and then take care of Glimmer."

"And after that… it's just us," I say quietly.

He nods. "Just us." Suddenly he grins. "Should be a good fight."

I force a smile. "Definitely." I can't help hoping, though, that someone will kill Cato first, so I don't have to.

"I hope that all works out," he sighs. "I mean, it doesn't _really_ matter what order we kill them in, but it would be really convenient if it worked out like that…"

"Yeah, it would," I agree.

"Alright," he grumbles, "help me wake the others up."

"I'll get the girls," I tell him. "You can deal with Marvel and Lover Boy." I'm surprised he doesn't complain, but it _is_ only waking them up. Actually, I expected at least a couple of our allies to be difficult to wake up – as in, attacking whoever wakes them – but that hasn't been a problem, oddly enough.

"Are we going hunting?" Shell asks when they're all awake.

"Of course," Cato says, looking at her as though she's crazy. "We're going to stay in a group today."

He turns slightly to look at me. "What should we do with the kid?" he asks so that I'm the only one that can hear.

I shrug. "Leave him here. He won't run away. He knows we'll find him if he does, and that it won't go well for him."

Cato looks reassured. "Kid!" he barks, and the small boy jerks awake. Cato marches over to him. "We're going hunting. You're staying here. I want to see progress when we get back, do you hear?" The kid nods frantically. I don't point out that Cato wouldn't be able to tell if any progress had been made. "If you run away, I will find you, and I will kill you. Painfully. You have no idea how long I can make it last – just be aware that it will be horrible." The kid's eyes are widening in terror, and he's almost shaking. Cato turns back to us with one last threatening look, and we prepare to leave.

"You know the drill," I tell everyone. "Grab a weapon and let's go."

Cato pulls me to the side. "Here," he says, and hands me a pair of – sunglasses? "I found two pairs last night. One for me, one for you."

"But what – _oh!_" I exclaim. These aren't sunglasses – they let you see in the dark. I've seen pictures of these, back in District Two. "Thanks, Cato!"

"I think we'll be out pretty late tonight, we might need them," he tells me. I grin, and our alliance heads into the woods.

For the first hour, I feel great – well rested and certain that today we'll be successful. But the further into the woods we get, the more doubtful I become. There's no sign of any other tributes, even though I was _so sure_ that today would be the day that we'd find someone…

I try to pass the time by talking to Glimmer – it worked well enough yesterday, after all. "So, what's with the new weapon?" I ask curiously. She's carrying a bow and a sheath of arrows, though she does have her axe hanging at her waist.

She shrugs. "Just felt like a change. Axes are great for close-up kills, but I figured I should have something that works for distance, too."

We talk quietly for a while, and before I know it, the sky is dark. We're all growing restless, but Cato refuses to give up.

"No!" he snarls when Lover Boy tentatively suggests heading back to camp. "We're going to kill someone before we go back. If you have a problem with that, _you_ will be that someone."

I stifle a yawn – I'm not tired, really, or at least that's what I keep telling myself – and dig the night-vision glasses out of my bag. I put them on, and the world brightens.

"Maybe we should stop for a few minutes," Shell suggests. "It'll be easier to keep going if we do."

"We really should, Cato," I say quietly.

He huffs impatiently. "Fine. Just a few minutes!"

We all collapse on the ground – excluding Cato, of course. I close my eyes wearily, but they open again in seconds – the anthem is playing. There are no faces in the sky tonight, which is very discouraging… it's just another reminder that we're failing.

I think I doze off. I'm sure the others do too, and I guess I trust Cato not to kill me in my sleep. But after what feels like thirty seconds, he's yelling at us all.

"Get up!" he shouts hoarsely. "Get up, now! We need to move!" I blink – what's the rush?

Then I start coughing.

Smoke! And where there's smoke, there's –

"Fire!" Cato shouts. "Let's _go!_"

I don't wait for the others, but they catch up. We all sprint away from the huge wall of fire descending upon us, narrowly avoiding being overcome by the flames. And then – then fireballs are being launched at us, not very many, but one grazes my left arm and it _hurts – _and it's so hot, and the smoke is choking me.

"Oh, well done, Clove," Cato manages to spit at me as we run. "This is your fault! You just had to ask the Gamemakers for something to draw us together, when we were hunting before – and now this!"

"_My_ fault?" I cough. "Oh please, Cato, they would've done something like this sooner or later! And you'll be thanking me if we end up catching someone!" Which I doubt we will, not with this fire. But I have to think positively.

"Shut up, both of you!" Shell screeches. "We need to keep moving!"

And we do – I'm not sure how much time passes, but we keep running, and occasionally dodging the fireballs, and I'm not thinking about catching the other tributes – only about preserving my own life. I won't die this way.

Finally – we seem to be out of range of the fireballs and the huge wall of fire. I fall onto my knees and cough like I never have before. A few yards away, Glimmer and Shell are retching. Lover Boy is shaking, and Marvel is hanging onto a tree for support. Cato grips my shoulder while I continue to cough. I don't know why, but I'm glad, because I know I'm not alone with all this. I bury my face in my hands for a long time.

Then I look up – and through a gap in the trees, I see her.

I gasp involuntarily – Fire Girl's just sitting there, a couple hundred yards away, and I can't even tell if she's awake. I nudge Cato and he narrows his eyes in her direction. "Gotcha," he whispers.

I get up silently and creep over to each of the others, pointing out the girl in the distance. One by one, their faces light up, and we begin to make our way in her direction. Quietly.

Marvel – I'm going to _kill him!_

He's running now, and we have no choice but to run after him, because Fire Girl has jumped up and is sprinting away from us. Cato and I quickly overtake Marvel, and we chase Fire Girl.

"Hurry up!" I call to the others. I'm surprised at how raspy my voice sounds, but I suppose smoke does that.

"Wait for us!" Shell cries out. I ignore her.

Glimmer is suddenly behind me. "We've almost got her," she coughs.

She's right – we've almost caught up with Fire Girl – except that now our target is scurrying up a tree. _Damn,_ I think. She's up at least twenty feet by the time we catch up with her.

I lay a hand against the tree, panting. Back in District Two, I ran several miles every morning as part of training. Brutus would time me, and I was always pretty fast. But I've had to run so far today, and I'm exhausted…

"How's everything with you?" Fire Girl calls down to us. What? Did she really just say that? _Just great,_ I want to reply. _At least, it will be, after we kill you. Want to come on down and make it easier?_

Cato answers her. "Well enough," he says. "Yourself?"

"It's been a bit warm for my taste," she says casually, and I'm struck with an odd desire to laugh. "The air's better up here," she adds. "Why don't you come on up?"

Cato smirks menacingly. "Think I will."

Glimmer pulls the bow and arrows off her back – and for some reason, I see Fire Girl glaring fiercely at Lover Boy. "Here, take this, Cato," Glimmer offers. But Cato refuses.

"No," he says. Thankfully, Glimmer doesn't look offended, especially when he adds, "I'll do better with my sword."

Really, Cato? A sword? It's just so… unoriginal.

I know he doesn't have a chance to reach Fire Girl. He's just too heavy. I don't know why he's even trying – well, yes, I do. Cato, for some reason, thinks he needs to do everything himself. A large part of it, I think, is that he's angry that the girl in the tree outscored him in training.

Cato only gets about fifteen feet up the tree before he steps on a flimsy branch and falls – by this point, Fire Girl is another thirty feet up. Cato hits the ground hard, but he's back up in seconds – and all of Panem is being educated in the finest swears District Two has to offer.

Glimmer tries next, but it's just a waste of time – Fire Girl is up so high that to see her, I have to crane my next so far back that it hurts, and although Glimmer makes it further up than Cato did, the branches start to crack after a few minutes and she's forced to stop. She has her arrows, though, and the bow – she tries to shoot Fire Girl. At first I'm hopeful that an arrow will hit her, but it soon becomes clear that archery is far from Glimmer's specialty. "Dammit," I hear her mutter when an arrow misses Fire Girl by just a few feet.

I do have to admit that Fire Girl has nerve. She waves the arrow above Glimmer, taunting her. "You know," Marvel says quietly to Shell, "she might've actually been a good ally…"

I smack the top of his head, and Cato glares.

When Glimmer finally climbs down, the six of us form a circle. "Okay – obviously, we need a new plan, because this isn't working," I hiss.

"Really?" Shell asks sarcastically. "I never would have guessed."

"Shut up," Cato snarls. "We need to think of a way to get her to come down! She made us look like idiots – she has to die!"

"Pretend to leave?" Glimmer suggests. I shake my head.

"No, she's up too high, she'll be able to see us. Something else…"

Marvel leans forward. "Okay… here's an idea. We could pretend to offer her a spot in the alliance. She'll come down, thinking it's safe, and then we can kill her!"

I snort. "She wouldn't fall for that."

"Oh, let her stay up there," Lover Boy says scathingly. "It's not like she's going anywhere. We'll deal with her in the morning."

Well… he has a point. There's no way she could get past us. Escape is impossible for Fire Girl at this point.

We set up camp directly under the tree. Glimmer volunteers to guard – I let her, but I don't let myself fall asleep. Not tonight. If something happens, I need to be alert right away. Especially if it has to do with Fire Girl…

The anthem plays, and the Capitol seal is shown, but just like last night, there are no faces in the sky. We have Fire Girl treed, though, and that should be enough for the audience for tonight. A few minutes after the sky goes dark again, it sounds like Fire Girl says something – but I don't hear anything after that, so I let it pass. Must've been my imagination…

After about an hour, I start to get tired. _No, _I think, furious with myself. _Not tonight._ I try to occupy my mind, thinking of ways to get Fire Girl down from the tree. I can't come up with anything, though – not because I'm an idiot or anything, but because when I'm tired my mind doesn't seem to work properly.

Eventually, I'm forced to give in – only because Glimmer's guarding, and I don't think she'll kill me in my sleep either. I let my eyes close, and lose consciousness.

For the second time in less than two days, I wake up to the sound of chaos.

"Clove! Get up!" Cato yanks me to my feet. I'm confused, but I feel a sharp sting on my wrist and I decide not to question whatever's going on. I hear Glimmer shrieking, but I just hold onto Cato and run.

"What's going on?" I cry.

"Tracker jackers," Cato says wildly. "She – there was a nest in the tree, she dropped it on us – Glimmer and Shell both got stung pretty badly, I don't know if they'll make it."

Tracker jackers – one of the deadliest Capitol muttations that were created during the war. I run faster, but three more wasps manage to sting me – my shoulder, my cheek, my ankle. This is worse than the fire.

"To the lake!" I hear someone – Marvel or Lover Boy, I assume – shout from behind us. I can hear Glimmer calling for help, too, but we don't turn around – there's no saving her at this point. Besides, this is the Hunger Games, and you just don't save people in the arena.

"Ow!" I shout as I get stung again, this time on my other wrist. Suddenly, Cato stops running.

"Go!" he tells me. "I'll meet you there!"

I don't bother telling him to come with me – I don't even watch as he turns around and sprints back to where we came from. I just keep running, and after twenty agonizing minutes – two cannons go off during this time – I reach the lake.

Nothing could ever compare to diving into the water. Immediately, the stings hurt just a little bit less, and I know none of the wasps will be able to follow me. Even the small burn on my left arm feels better.

I hear another splash as I break the surface of the lake – Marvel. Cato and Lover Boy are nowhere to be seen… and I know that Glimmer and Shell must be dead. The cannons I heard earlier were theirs.

I'm not sure how I feel about that. Shell was irritating, but Glimmer… well, I can't say she was my friend, but she was a good ally. I got along with her, never really felt like I was dying to get rid of her. But she's gone now, and in a way I'm glad that Fire Girl killed her… now I won't have to.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I shouldn't care who I kill. It's the Hunger Games. If I end up killing all my allies, what's the big deal? They're just obstacles between me and the life I've always wanted. I decide that I don't care about Glimmer's death, or Shell's – well, I don't have to convince myself about the second one.

I climb out of the lake when I see that all the tracker jackers have gone, and Marvel follows me. "Where are the others?"

"Glimmer and Shell must be dead," I sigh. "I heard two cannons. Cato… I don't know. Or Lover Boy."

He shakes his head. "Great."

Suddenly the kid breaks the surface of the lake – I didn't even know he'd jumped in. "Are they gone?" he asks wildly.

"Yes," I say dully. "You can get out."

I realize that I'm freezing – that's the last time I jump in the lake. So I walk – well, more like limp, thanks to the sting on my ankle – over to the pyramid of supplies, pausing a few yards away. "The mines aren't rigged to go off yet, are they?" I ask the kid. He shakes his head, so I grab a jacket that's lying near the bottom of the pile.

I'm a bit warmer when I hear an explosion go off near the edge of the clearing – wait, no, it's just Cato. Damn, he's loud.

"He's going to die!" he hollers. "Both of them are going to die!"

I stare at him, shocked. "Cato, what – "

"Lover Boy – he's been helping Fire Girl this whole time! I knew it!"

I don't have room to be shocked, because the pain is back. The water helped for a little while, but now my stings are throbbing like mad.

"Cato," I say weakly. "We – we need to – the venom – "

"Clove?" he says uncertainly.

My vision starts to blur, and everything turns blue, and then orange – more effects of the tracker jacker venom, I'm surprised this didn't happen earlier. Must have been because of the water… it must've held this off… but now, the venom is doing what it's supposed to.

I collapse.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the wait, I was supposed to post this yesterday, but I didn't get a chance. This chapter was really fun to write, if a bit difficult at certain points. I hope you enjoyed it, though. :)<strong>

**So, I have a new favorite word. Can you guess what it is? Six letters, two syllables, and the definition, according to Webster's Dictionary, is _a critical evaluation of a book, play, etc._ (in this case, a fanfiction story). I know none of you are idiots. You know as well as I do that the word is REVIEW! :D**

**~What the Quell**


	14. New Plan

Chapter Fourteen: New Plan

"Do you think she can hear us?"

"I don't know. Maybe she needs another dose?"

"But there's hardly any left! It might not make a difference."

"She's smaller than us. Her system probably didn't fight off the venom very well. She'll come around."

"Clove? Can you hear me?"

I groan and force my eyes to open. "Cato? Marvel? What…"

What's going on? I just got stung by tracker jackers… I shouldn't be awake! I remember passing out… but… I'm supposed to have hallucinations! Not that I'm complaining… although I do remember my surroundings turning strange colors in my last moments of consciousness. But that doesn't explain…

"We should all be knocked out!" I say feebly. Cato grins at me and holds up a silver parachute.

"The beauty of being a Career – gotta love sponsors, right?"

Oh, that makes sense. It's still pretty early in the Games, so the prices for sponsor gifts haven't skyrocketed yet. Apparently Yoh and Enobaria can still afford to send us medicine… and I guess Marvel's mentors can, too.

"How come you didn't pass out too?" I demand my two allies.

Cato shrugs. "We're bigger than you, so the venom took longer to get through our system, and the meds came pretty fast, thankfully."

"Okay… okay. Tell me everything that's happened!"

Cato's face darkens. "Lover Boy. He's been in cahoots with Fire Girl this whole time, apparently. When I left you to go back, I was following him, and when I got back to where we spent the night he was helping her get away."

I sigh. "Please tell me you killed him, Cato…"

He smirks. "Just about. He won't last very long, but I didn't want to give him a quick end. Besides, I had to get back here, and when I did the medicine came."

I try to sit up, and wince. "Why does it still hurt?"

Marvel answers me. "They probably couldn't afford to send the best medicine, so we'll have to cope. We should probably rest for a couple of days."

To my surprise, Cato doesn't contradict him. "Yeah, you're right. The other tributes will have been stung too, or most of them. And I guess we should be grateful our mentors sent anything at all," he adds grudgingly.

"I'm surprised those stings didn't kill me," I mutter. I inspect the places I've been stung – I look terrible, though not bloated, like some of the images my dad showed me when I was little. I'm not hallucinating, so that's good. And I'm not dead, not like –

"Glimmer and Shell are gone, then?" I ask Cato, trying to sound nonchalant.

He nods. "Glimmer – she must've been stung at least twenty times. She didn't have a chance. I saw her body, when I went back… it was pretty horrible. I'm guessing Shell was just as bad. We were smart to run, or we would've died."

Marvel suddenly frowns. "You know what? If some of the others really did get stung, they're probably unconscious. We should hunt!"

I shake my head. "Are you kidding me? We may have sponsors that could afford to buy us medicine, but we're still not healthy enough to hunt. We need to wait at least another day."

Cato nods, agreeing with me. "When we do hunt, I think we should take the kid," he says, gesturing to the soaking wet boy lying near the Cornucopia. "Since we just lost two allies."

"Sure," I say uncaringly. "I doubt he'll be much help, but I suppose there's always strength in numbers."

"Whatever," Marvel grumbles. I roll my eyes at him and turn to Cato.

"How long was I out, anyway?"

"About an hour," he replies. "You haven't missed anything, really. The kid hasn't moved at all. Marvel and I have been waiting for you to wake up."

"Oh," is my brilliant response to that.

I walk over to where our tents are set up. "We should probably get rid of two of these," I say. "Since they're dead."

Cato walks over to stand next to me. "I'll get them. You need a nap."

I turn to glare fiercely at him – for some reason, the implication that I could possibly _need_ anything infuriates me. What right does he have to tell me what to do? I know I'm being irrational, but I don't care at the moment. "Cato, I technically just slept for an hour, and I can take care of myself!" Strangely, I'm reminded of Shell being irritated at Zen, that first day of training. "Besides, you haven't slept at all in almost four days!" I didn't give it much thought before, but now I can see the dark circles under his eyes. "_You_ go take a nap. I'll guard. I'll wake you up if anything interesting happens, which I'm sure it won't because half the tributes are probably unconscious right now. Go!"

He stares at me for a second without speaking, and for a moment I fear that he's going to try to kill me – but then he wordlessly retreats to his tent. I scowl after him and stalk over to where the kid is lying.

"You," I snap, and he leaps to his feet. "Why aren't you working? How much longer until the mines are done? This is your last day to work."

"J-just another c-couple of hours," he stammers. "They'll b-be done this afternoon."

"Good," I snarl, and walk towards Marvel in a somewhat less furious manner.

"You might as well get some sleep too," I tell him bluntly.

He shrugs. "Sure." Without another word he crawls into his tent, and soon I can hear faint snores coming from his direction.

The afternoon passes slowly. Nothing happens, which is to be expected since half the arena is probably out cold right now. It's a horrible feeling, knowing this and not hunting. I'll have to tell Cato that we need to hunt tomorrow.

After about three or four hours, the kid walks over to me timidly. "Excuse me… the mines are all done."

"Show me," I order him. I'm actually very excited about this – nothing like this has ever happened in the Hunger Games. This could change everything…

The kid points to a small mound of soil next to the Cornucopia. "I just had to do some work over there, and I could control pretty much everything in this clearing. Most of the area surrounding the supply pyramid is rigged to blow up if someone steps on it. The mines are separated, though, so only a portion will explode. The rest of the supplies will be unharmed."

"Fantastic," I tell him. "What about the supplies spread around the pyramid?"

"More or less the same thing. If someone were to try to raid us, they'd probably try to steal from the small piles, so they're rigged too."

"This is great," I say enthusiastically. "I'll go wake up Cato and Marvel so you can show them too."

Cato is pleased to hear that the mines are set – it'll make hunting easier, since we can have everyone in the woods without leaving a guard. Marvel seems excited too, and I'm so glad we didn't kill the kid when we caught him.

"Clove?" Cato says.

I raise my eyebrows. "What?"

"I really do think you should get some sleep. It's been a long day."

I'm not mad this time, but I'm not going to listen to him either. "I slept last night, and for a little while just a few hours ago. And I haven't really done anything since this morning, so I'm not even tired."

"Fine," Cato concedes. "You'll have to sleep sometime, though. Might as well be while nothing interesting's going to happen."

I just shake my head. "No."

"Whatever," he sighs.

We end up sitting by the lake with our feet in the water – Marvel goes back to sleep, and we let the kid take a nap too, since he finally succeeded with the mines. We watch the sun crawl slowly across the sky until it eventually disappears altogether.

The anthem wakes Marvel up, though the kid sleeps through it. The three of us watch the death recap – Glimmer, Shell. Their faces light up the sky and then they disappear.

It doesn't seem like they just died today. And it's not as though much has happened since then, but… I don't know.

I notice that Cato is staring at me. "What?" I ask.

He frowns. "I'm not going to bother telling you. You'll yell at me again."

Is this about me needing sleep, _again?_ "Drop it," I advise him, and he raises his hands defensively.

"Okay, okay."

"Thanks."

I actually feel like I could stay awake for a long time – I guess I'm caught up on sleep. I sigh and stare into the woods. _It's not like anyone would be stupid enough to try to attack us,_ I think irritably. _The ones that would think of that are dead already._

"Who's left again?" Cato says.

I sigh – hadn't we just discussed this? "The four of us. The girl from Five. The boy from Ten, with the bad foot. Both from Eleven. Fire Girl and Lover Boy – well, he'll be gone soon. That's it, I think."

He nods thoughtfully. "We need a new plan."

"Yeah, we do," I sigh. "Now that Glimmer and Shell are dead."

"We can't kill the kid yet, not unless he screws something up. Not Marvel either, I guess. Not until we kill some of the others, at least."

"That's the other thing," I tell him. "We aren't going to be able to choose who we kill, in what order. We're just going to have to go with whatever happens. If we had total control over this it'd be different… but we need to take any opportunity to get rid of the other tributes. No matter who it is."

Cato nods. "It was kind of stupid of us to think we could pick the order," he chuckles.

I grin. "Yeah. But it never hurts to have our priorities straightened out."

"I think we should kill the kid in a few days," he says. "After we get one or two of the others. Then Marvel a little later."

"I hope no one kills him for us," I mutter rebelliously. "_I_ want to kill him. I hate him."

"No chance – he's mine. We've discussed this, little girl."

I narrow my eyes. "We'll see."

He smirks arrogantly. "Whatever, Clove."

We sit in silence until the sun rises. Then I stretch and stand up. "We should wake up Marvel and the kid. We need to go hunting."

"Good," Cato says. "I feel a lot better than yesterday, don't you?"

"A bit. I still look terrible, though," I moan.

He snickers. "It's the Hunger Games, who cares what you look like?"

I glare at him. "Shut up, Cato."

I let him wake up the other two, because he's irritating me and I need a drink of water anyway. "We're going hunting today. Eat a quick breakfast and grab a weapon so we can get going," I tell them once they're up. Surprisingly, I'm starving – I guess I haven't been eating much the past couple of days, and the tracker jacker attack took a lot out of me. I mean, I've had some dried fruit and that kind of thing while hunting, but… well, it doesn't matter. I'm eating now.

After breakfast I gather a bunch of knives and put them in the backpack I've been using. _Maybe I should take another weapon today, _I think mindlessly. Then I spot an axe in one of the small piles, and I carefully walk over to it – in the mine-free areas, of course – and pick it up. _Why not?_ I think. I've always been decent with axes… and it's good to be well rounded. And it reminds me of Glimmer – I don't know why that's important to me, but it is.

"Let's go," I call out harshly.

Today, we're going to find somebody – I can feel it. If we don't, I might go insane. This is the Hunger Games, and in the Hunger Games, tributes kill each other.

As a tribute, I _need_ to kill.

I run my index finger over the blade of my new axe – it's very sharp. I'm accustomed to knives, but maybe I'll take a life using a new weapon today.

We'll see.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the wait! I was going to post this yesterday, but then I didn't get a chance... anyway, I know there isn't much that happens in this chapter, but it was necessary to get through this. By the way, don't yell at me for giving them medicine, please! I though about it, and I realized I hadn't sent them ANY sponsor gifts... so maybe the mentors were saving up in case something big happened. ;) I just couldn't picture the Careers unconscious for that long, because wouldn't someone like Foxface or Thresh have used the opportunity to slit their throats?<strong>

**Okay. When I posted the last chapter, I was going to mention in the author's note how awesome you all are and that we're up to fifty reviews... and then I forgot. :/ So I'll mention it now, only since then we're up to sixty! :D Wow, you all are amazing! Reviews make my day!**

**~What the Quell :)**


	15. The Worst Feeling Ever

Chapter Fifteen: The Worst Feeling Ever

We decide to split up. Marvel will be on his own, and Cato and I will hunt together. I'm pretty happy with this arrangement – I can't be with Marvel; I'd end up killing him after five minutes. And even though the kid isn't as bad, he's so… puny. But he's not coming anyway.

Cato seems to be in a chatty mood today, which is weird. He's put on the show of being ruthless so well, but he's talking nonstop. I'm pretty bored, actually, after we walk for a little while without finding anyone. So I join the conversation.

We talk about home.

"What are your parents' talents?" he asks me. Every victor is supposed to have one.

"My dad is an artist. Painting, sculpting, that kind of thing. My mother designs weapons, she's the head of that industry," I reply proudly.

"Weapons?" Cato sounds interested. "Like what?"

I roll my eyes. "We're in the Hunger Games, Cato, and we're also from District Two – I think you know what a weapon is."

He scowls. "I know that, I meant – "

I laugh. "I know what you meant. Um… knives are her favorite. But she's also designed some really cool spears."

"Excellent," he says wickedly. "I'll ask her to design a special one for me when I win."

I decide not to dignify this with a response.

"What do your parents do?" I ask instead.

Cato grimaces. "They're… they're miners."

Surely, we're not live right now. The cameras will be focusing on the other tributes – Lover Boy dying, perhaps, or Fire Girl up a tree. The Capitol won't want District Two's secret to get out.

Well, maybe secret is the wrong word. For the Capitol, anyway. District Two doesn't want anyone to know that we mine in addition to designing fancy clothing for the Capitol – it's something even I try not to think about. But we have so many huge mountains in our district; not mining simply isn't an option.

But we are a Career district, and we don't want to be thought of as low – District Twelve mines coal, remember? We can't be compared to them. So District Two requested that the Capitol not spread the word around that District Two are miners, and since we hold favor with them they generally try to keep us happy.

I don't press the subject. Actually, I feel bad for even asking, even though he did first. District Two is proud of designing clothing for the Capitol but mining is shameful. The only other thing we do, really, is design weaponry, but it's a relatively small business compared to the other two.

Of course, we train Peacekeepers as well, but that really is a secret.

"What did you do in your free time?" he asks. I know _free time _means _when you weren't training,_ but we can't exactly say that on television.

I shrug. "I never really had a lot of free time. Sometimes I helped my mother design weapons, or watched my dad paint. What about you?"

"I didn't have much free time, either."

"Oh." I search my mind for something else to say. "If you win, what's your talent going to be?"

It seems that Cato has never considered this. "Um… I don't know. I've never really thought about that. I'm not good at anything besides using weapons."

"Me neither," I sigh. "I guess I could just mentor tributes and have that be my talent."

He laughs. "Not likely, with Enobaria around."

I wrinkle my nose. "Good point."

We walk in silence for twenty minutes or so without saying anything. We shouldn't have been talking at all, really, but there was nothing else to do, since we weren't finding any tributes!

"You know what?" he says suddenly.

I raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"Hunting right now is going to be impossible! Some of them will be passed out, sure, but that also means – "

"We won't be able to hear them," I say, realization dawning on me.

Cato nods. "Exactly. That's how tributes normally find each other, right? Because someone makes a noise… or lights a fire?"

I grin at the memory of finding the girl from Eight. "Lighting a fire _would_ be pretty hard to do in your sleep," I admit.

He sighs. "And anyone with any sense at all would have hidden themselves before they passed out…"

"So finding them is going to be almost impossible," I conclude.

"How did we not think of this before?" he groans.

I want to bang my head against the wall. "At least it won't matter whether or not _we're_ quiet, though," I point out. "Talking won't scare them off or anything."

"I guess," Cato mutters.

I've run out of things to say, though. I mean, what else is there? We can only discuss so much about home without it getting awkward. But I guess there's always –

"I wonder if Sparkle Trix is watching this," I say with a grin.

Cato smirks. "Of course she is. Hi, darling escort," he says in a slightly louder voice than usual. I laugh.

"You don't even know if we're on screen right now," I remind him. "And if we are, now you look like an idiot in front of the whole nation."

He rolls his eyes. "Do I care? Besides, I bet we're not live," he adds. "I'm guessing they'll want to focus on the tributes who've been stung badly."

That reminds me of where we are and what we need to be doing. I don't say another word for a couple of hours – I'm trying to think of where everyone could be hiding. Needless to say, I don't come up with anything.

"Let's head back," I say reluctantly when the sky goes dark. "We can get some rest, and then we can hunt all day tomorrow."

"Fine," he grumbles.

By the time we get back, it's nearly pitch dark. The anthem has played, and there were no faces in the sky – a fact that irks me greatly. How is it possible that we've found _no one_ when almost everyone is probably unconscious?

I'm sulking about this as we enter the clearing. Marvel immediately stands up from where he was sitting by the Cornucopia and walks over to us. "Where've you been?" he asks. "I've been back for hours!"

Cato shrugs. "Just hunting. Didn't want to give up that early," he says, looking pointedly at Marvel.

I roll my eyes. "Go to sleep, both of you. I'll – "

"I'll guard," Cato interrupts me. "Please," he says quietly when I open my mouth to argue. "We need you to be alert tomorrow."

Damn him. "Fine," I mutter resentfully, and stalk over to my tent.

I am actually a bit tired, or I would've argued with Cato. Once I lie down, it doesn't take very long to fall asleep.

For once, there's no drama when I wake up. No fire, no tracker jackers, no confusion. It's late morning – how did I sleep that long?

"Why didn't you wake me up earlier?" I demand when I manage to crawl out of my tent.

Cato shrugs. "I figured you'd be able to stay awake longer if you got more sleep. I want to stay in the woods for a long time today, till about this time tomorrow if we can handle that."

"Of course we can," I snap.

He's trying not to smirk at me, I can tell. "Eat something, Clove. Then we'll head out. The rest of us are ready."

"The kid isn't coming, is he?" I ask.

Cato snorts. "Of course not, do you think he'd be any use? No, just you, me, and Marvel. I think we should stick together today."

"Why?" I whine. "I don't want to deal with him today!"

He chuckles, and I glare at him. "This is going to be the day that we actually find someone," he says confidently. "I can tell. Might as well have everyone here."

"We've said that every day," I mutter. Not about having everyone hunt together, just that we'd find someone. But I don't protest.

"Hey, are we leaving, or what?" Marvel calls from the other side of the Cornucopia.

"Soon," Cato snaps. "Clove has to eat breakfast."

I glare at him, but then I walk over to the pile of supplies – dodging where the mines are set up, of course – and grab some dried fruit and a bottle of water.

"I'll eat while we hunt," I say, because I'm impatient to get back to the woods. "Let's go." I'm halfway to the trees when Cato calls out to me.

"Forgetting something?" he says teasingly, holding out my backpack. I sigh and walk back over to him, taking the supplies.

"Thanks," I say unwillingly. "Now can we _go?_"

The fruit lasts about half an hour before it's gone. Then I have nothing to distract myself from this failure of a hunting trip. I'm beginning to think that we'll _never_ find anyone, that I'll be stuck in this arena forever.

I've made a discovery, too. The worst feeling in the world isn't just one feeling. It's a mix, and one leads to the other. Anticipation leads to confidence, and when you add failure, there's disappointment. I can say first handed that it sucks like nothing else.

I try to make the time pass by quicker – but apparently, counting the seconds that go by is not an efficient way of doing that. Neither is picking at the hole that's formed in my jacket. Then I start to think about people, in the Capitol and District Two.

My dad. I hope he's proud of me. I know he didn't want me to volunteer, but isn't it better this way? When I win, he'll be happy. But I'm sure he's having a hard time watching this. His little girl in the arena…

Enobaria. What's she thinking? I wish I could talk to her, just for a few minutes. Maybe there's something I'm missing about this arena, some clue as to what I need to do to find another tribute – preferably one that's _not_ my ally.

Maio. Has it really been less than a week since I've seen my stylist? It feels like years have passed. Has he designed me any outfits for the Victory Tour? Has he appealed to anyone about letting me become a stylist for the Games? I wish I could see him. I finger the necklace he gave me. _Clove Flair, 74__th__ Victor._

Brutus. Is he watching? Of course. Am I living up to his expectations? Is he wishing that we'd trained more, harder? I don't think so. I'll win. Does he know that? He must.

Yoh. He's going to feel like such a failure when I beat his tribute. Enobaria will never let him hear the end of it. I almost laugh out loud at the thought.

Sparkle Trix. Is she pleased that both of her district's tributes have made it to the final ten? I doubt she cares, with her crazy Capitol mind. When I win, she won't even get a promotion, since she's already at the top district.

Basil Shay. Oh, she's jealous of me right now. Very jealous. Angry, too – she'll still be resentful that I won't let Cato win. Although, I can see now why they're friends. Cato's actually a halfway decent person. But he won't win.

Arriah Elloy. I don't really know her, but I was able to recognize her when her name was pulled from the reaping ball. I'm sure she still hates me for volunteering, but… well, she _is_ only fourteen or so. She wouldn't have stood a chance anyway.

My mother. What's she thinking? Is she proud of me? Does she know I'll come home? I hope so. Is she helping Dad get through this? I doubt it, somehow. She just wants me to win. Of course, I will – we're already down to the final ten. There are almost no tributes that are a threat to me. What does she think of my allies? She told me to ally with Cato – does she regret that? Does she wish I would kill Marvel? And what about our decision to spare the kid? And what about Fire Girl? Is she angry that I haven't killed her yet? Probably. But I'll kill her – soon. I'll make my mother proud.

I jump when I hear the anthem playing – wow, have we been hunting for that long already? No faces are in the sky, and I glare at the ground. I refuse to open my mouth, though, because I'll whine. And then guess who I'll sound like? Our beloved, recently murdered ally, Shell. Can't have that.

At least I'm not tired. No, I'm not sleeping again until the Games are over. Definitely not – I don't know how I was stupid enough to do that at all. I guess fatigue clouds judgment sometimes. I speed up, passing my two allies.

"Cato, Clove?" Marvel says after a few minutes. "Maybe we should think about heading back."

I roll my eyes, which are hidden behind the night-vision glasses. "What part of _staying out all night_ did you not understand?"

"You never said that," he mutters angrily.

"She's saying it now," Cato snaps, glaring at Marvel.

"Don't start," I say tiredly, but neither of them seems to hear me.

"Quit acting like the two of you are in charge!" Marvel shouts furiously. "You're not, okay? I have just as much say as you do! You're not the leaders!"

I spin around to face him and slap him across the face. "If I were you, Marvel," I whisper dangerously, "I would _shut the hell up._" I bring my face close to his, and he flinches. Ha. "The only reason you aren't dead yet is because I'm feeling generous today. I'm giving you the chance to _stop talking_. Or die."

He glares at me, but doesn't speak. I turn around, satisfied, and keep walking.

After another hour of finding nobody, I come up with a new plan. I fall back to walk beside Cato and force Marvel to walk in front of us.

"Because I don't trust you," I say harshly when he looks as if he's going to protest. Then I turn to my other ally.

"I have an idea," I say quietly.

Cato raises his eyebrows… I think. It's hard to tell with the night-vision glasses. "And that would be…?"

"We head back to camp," I begin. "No, don't interrupt! Hear me out. We head back. We have the kid pretend to fall asleep. We hide in the woods. Someone tries to steal water, or supplies. They don't see us. We catch them."

Cato stares at me for a moment. "That's… a good idea," he says finally.

I grin. "I know."

It takes another two hours to get back to camp, and another ten minutes to get everything set up. But in the end, the kid is "asleep" at the mouth of the Cornucopia and Cato, Marvel, and I are positioned at the edge of the woods.

By this time, the sky is slowly growing lighter. _Maybe someone will come,_ I think desperately. _No – I mean, of course someone will come. The question is, when?_

We remain hidden for a solid hour before anything happens, and when a tribute finally comes our way, I'm too impatient to make this kill last.

I'm sitting on a branch in a tree when he wanders into the clearing, because I got tired of crouching. I'm glad, though, because it greatly increases the boy from Ten's fear when I jump from the branch and land lightly just a few yards from him.

I shake my head in mock disappointment. "Dear, dear. I expected better from you," I say, pretending to reprimand him. "Wandering into our camp? What were you thinking?"

The answer to that is obvious. He hadn't been thinking... he was just thirsty. I can see it in his eyes – the half-crazed look that shows how dehydrated he really is. He doesn't answer me.

Cato and Marvel emerge from behind their trees to stand beside me. "Oh, good – it's the cripple," sneers Marvel. "Looks like it's not only his foot that's messed up."

"Now, now, be polite, Marvel," I say with a false smile. "Where are your manners? We haven't even introduced ourselves yet." I turn back to the boy, who hasn't spoken or attempted to run. Good – it will make this easier.

"My name is Clove. This is Cato," I say, gesturing to Cato, "and Marvel," pointing at Marvel. "I'm so sorry, about this, but – wait. No, I'm not. Goodbye."

For the first time, I see fear in the boy's eyes – he starts backing away slowly, and then he turns and starts sprinting towards the woods. Maybe limping would be a more accurate description. Either way, he only makes it a few yards before Cato's spear enters his back… at the same time my knife enters his head.

The cannon fires.

"Excellent," Cato smirks. "I was starting to think we'd never find anyone."

I grin. "I know, me too. He was a strange one, though. Didn't ask us to let him go, or anything. He just _stood_ there."

Cato shrugs. "I guess. I don't really care, though. Only nine of us left!"

"Yep," I say, satisfied. "I think we should celebrate with a good… breakfast, is it?"

He laughs. "Early breakfast, but yeah. Kind of hard to keep track, isn't it?"

"It is," I agree, suddenly in a good mood. I walk – _carefully_ – over to the supplies, intending to grab some food, but three gleaming silver parachutes fall from the sky before I'm able to take anything.

I grin and walk back over to Cato and Marvel. We each pick up a parachute. One contains a huge bowl of _fresh_ fruit, the second has several small loaves of bread that are still warm, and the last has four thermoses filled with –

"Hot chocolate!" Cato laughs. I grin at the sight of the dark liquid.

I guess we're supposed to share with the kid, since there's a fourth thermos. So we give him a small share of the fruit and the bread, along with his share of the hot chocolate, and then we sit down and eat. It's nice to have good food after living off of mostly dried fruit for this long.

Clearly, this is a message from our mentors. If we manage to kill more tributes, our lives in the arena can be much more pleasant. If not… well, I'd rather not think about that.

For now, we're doing great.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm so sorry I didn't update yesterday! I meant to... and then I didn't have time. :( Anyway, thank you all SO MUCH for all the reviews! It's just shocking when I check my email and I have a bunch of new reviews, or notifications that people have added this story to favorites or story alert.<strong>

**The next chapter will be up soon... anyone want to guess what's coming? ;)**

**~What the Quell**


	16. Explosions

Chapter Sixteen: Explosions

"Why don't you all take a nap?" I suggest cheerfully. "I'll guard. In a few hours we can head out again."

Cato looks at me strangely. "You sure, Clove?" he asks uncertainly.

I nod brightly. "Positive. I'm not tired at all."

Huh. I'm almost hyper right now. Maybe it's from the hot chocolate, or maybe it's just the high of finally having a successful kill. Either way, I won't need sleep anytime soon, that's for sure.

Cato, Marvel, and the kid eventually all climb into their tents, and after a while I hear snores coming from them. Well, we were hunting for a long time – it makes sense that they'd be tired. I wonder why I'm not, though.

I walk over to the Cornucopia and sit down at my usual spot by the mouth. I don't take anything with me, and for the next few hours I just stare into the woods.

Cato wakes up before I decide to wake him myself. He sits down beside me and after a couple of minutes he speaks.

It's odd, because he seems… nervous, almost. "Clove…"

I raise an eyebrow. "What?"

He grimaces. "Okay. Here's the thing. We're down to nine people. This alliance has almost half the tributes. I think…"

I sigh when he pauses again. "Spit it out, Cato!"

He raises his hands in defeat. "I think… I think we should consider breaking the alliance."

I freeze. What did he just say?

"Not us," he says quickly. "I'd like for us to stick together till the end. It'll be easier for both of us. But Marvel and the kid… they're holding us back, you know? I don't think I can put up with them for much longer."

I don't say anything at first, because I'm so relieved that he doesn't want to _completely_ break the alliance. When I regain the ability of speech, I say, "Sounds good, but we need to figure out how and when we're going to – "

I break off and slap a hand over Cato's mouth as well. He looks angry at first, but I make shushing motions and point to my ear, and then to the woods. His eyes widen as he makes the connection. I've heard something.

Not a loud noise, just a rustling of a branch. But it's not windy or anything. It had to have been a tribute.

"Want to try for a second kill today?" I breathe almost silently into Cato's ear. His eyes narrow maliciously and he nods.

I stand up carefully. "I'm going to grab some food, do you want anything?" I ask in a normal voice. He looks confused until I turn back towards him and wink.

Then Cato grins. "Sure."

I smirk and walk halfway to the supplies. When I'm almost there, I call, "What do you want?"

He sighs exaggeratedly and walks over. "Can't do anything without being given exact directions, can you, little girl?" he says, pretending to glare. I suppress a giggle. Wow, not even the stupidest of tributes would fall for this…

"Hang on. I think I dropped a knife over there," I say, gesturing to the edge of the clearing. That's a lie, of course; I have a knife attached to my waist. But I need an excuse to get closer to where the tribute is…

When I get to the spot I pointed at and crouch down, I see it. A pair of amber eyes staring at me. "Cato?" I call wearily. "I can't find it, could you come help me look?"

Cato sighs audibly. "Pathetic," he mutters, but he catches my eye and I hope he can read the message in them. _Found her._

Because it must be the girl from Five, right? Who else could it be? Lover Boy's eyes are blue, I think, and he's in no fit state to be walking around at all, let alone near our camp. Fire Girl's eyes are grey – I noticed while we were in the Capitol. Little Eleven is too short to be that person, and Thresh is too tall…

"I thought I saw it, just _five_ minutes ago," I say to Cato, and I can tell that he gets the message.

"Did you check everywhere?" he asks slyly. "What about… the woods?"

Really, Cato? _That's_ what you come up with? I roll my eyes. "This is pointless," I mutter, before spinning around suddenly and sprinting into the woods, towards those eyes.

She's fast – I'll give her that. I can hear Cato right behind me, trying to keep up. I see that flash of red hair and know that it is indeed District Five that we're going to catch.

"Come – on!" I puff. Damn, the girl is fast.

Oh, no. _Please_ tell me that I'm just imagining that she's climbing up a tree, please…

No luck, of course. A strong sense of déjà vu washes over me.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Cato hisses furiously. I glare at the girl in the tree.

"Alright, District Five. I'm going to give you three options," I growl menacingly. "One – you stay in the tree and we leave. But then we'll find you later, and we will kill you _very painfully_. Two – you cooperate and come down here, and perhaps we'll give you a quick death. Three – "

"CLOVE! CATO!"

I whip around to face the noise – that's Marvel's voice. Is the camp being attacked? What's going on?

"CLOVE! CATO! GET OVER HERE!"

"What the hell?" I say furiously. District Five merely looks at us with those strange eyes.

"I'm not worried about him getting killed," Cato says quickly, "but if there's another tribute over there… I dunno, maybe we'll have a chance to take out Thresh, or someone else…"

I bite my lip and look up at District Five, who looks pale. "Later," I say threateningly to her, and Cato and I run back towards camp, weapons ready.

What – there's no one there except Marvel and the kid! "DAMN IT, MARVEL!" Cato shouts. "Why were you yelling like that?"

Marvel shrugs uncaringly. "I woke up and you guys were gone."

I stare at him, openmouthed. "You – we – we just had District Five up a tree, dammit!" I yell. "What the hell were you _thinking?_"

He looks worried. "You – you actually had her?"

"No, Marvel, she was kidding," Cato says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yes, we had her treed! We only came back because we though someone was attacking you and figured they'd be a bigger opponent, you asshole!"

At least he has the decency to look somewhat ashamed. "Oh… I didn't know…"

I glare at him, absolutely furious. "I can't believe you. District Five is going to be _much_ too far away by now for us to have a chance to catch her."

"Sorry!" Marvel says defensively. "How was I supposed to know?"

"Think, idiot! Why else would we have been gone?" Cato scoffs, looking disgusted.

I close my eyes briefly before opening them again. "You know what? Just drop it. Marvel, you're a moron, and you will pay dearly for this later. Cato…" I sigh. _Soon,_ I mouth, when Marvel is looking the other way. We'll break the alliance soon.

He smirks and nods. _Good,_ he mouths back.

I sigh and go to wake up the kid. We need to go hunting soon. Luckily, he's easy to wake – if there's one thing I'm lacking today, it's patience.

"Hey!" Cato shouts. I spin around, and he points off into the woods. I have to squint to make it out… but there's a tall column of smoke rising in the distance.

Instantly, I'm excited. Now we have a chance to make up for the missed opportunity with District Five! There will be another death today…

"Grab a weapon!" I call out. They should know the drill by now, but honestly, I have serious doubts about Marvels' intelligence…

"Kid!" Cato barks. "You're coming."

"No way!" Marvel argues. "We need him to guard the supplies!"

"Are you really as stupid as you look?" I ask him in disbelief. Hello? The mines?

"He's coming," Cato says with finality. "We need him in the woods, and his job's done here anyway. No one can touch those supplies."

"What about Lover Boy?" Marvel persists. Well, Lover Boy does know how to get past the mines, but still…

"I keep telling you, forget about him," Cato says, glaring. Okay, maybe he's being a little harsh. I haven't heard him say that at all. Maybe when I was asleep, or knocked out from the tracker jacker venom… "I know where I cut him," he continues. "It's a miracle he hasn't bled to death yet."

"A miracle for him," I mutter. Neither of them hears me.

"At any rate, he's in no shape to raid us," Cato finishes triumphantly.

Marvel raises his hands in defeat. I'm glad he doesn't argue further – we're wasting time!

"Come on," Cato says forcefully, shoving a spear into the kid's hands. "When we find her, I kill her in my own way, and no one interferes."

"You think it's Fire Girl, then?" I ask quietly as we jog towards the smoke.

He nods tersely. "She's mine, got that?"

I glare at him. "What happened to both of us killing her?" I hiss.

He scowls. "Right. Right… you can help. But not the other two!" He jerks his head towards Marvel and the kid, who are both struggling to keep up with us.

I sigh. "How do you plan to keep them away?" I ask.

Cato starts to run faster – this can no longer be called a jog. "We'll deal with that when we have to." I don't question that.

We run for another twenty minutes or so – after a while I lose track. It's easy to keep track of the tall column of smoke, and before too long it's pretty much directly ahead of us – it's hard to see anything, though, because the trees are so thick here. We slow down when we're about fifteen yards away.

I raise an eyebrow at Cato and move my finger in a circle. _Surround them?_ I know he understands. He nods minutely.

I creep over to Marvel and tap him on the shoulder. I motion for him to take the kid and walk a bit to the side and then forward, and then separate a bit so that the fire starter will be surrounded.

"On go," I whisper, so quietly that I can barely hear myself. He nods, and the two of them walk away.

I walk a short distance away from Cato, making sure that I can still see him. Then I hold up three fingers – he nods and grins.

I place one finger down – then the other – then –

"GO!" I holler.

The four of us burst into the small area where the smoke is rising – yes, there's the fire – but – where's the tribute?

"You have got to be kidding me," I hear Cato say under his breath.

I groan and kneel down beside the fire. "What's going on?"

Cato's eyes tighten. "Fire Girl, I'd bet anything."

"There are others out there besides her," I remind him. "I doubt it was Lover Boy – but it could've been District Five, or either one from Eleven. They're all capable of starting a fire, you know."

He shakes his head. "No. It was her. I just… I just know, all right?"

"Whatever, Cato," I mumble.

The four of us sit in silence for about ten minutes. My eyes are downcast for the majority of that time, but eventually I look up, and –

"_Another one?"_ I shriek.

Yes, there's another tall column of smoke rising, and it's not far from here, either. There's no jogging this time – we all flat out _sprint_ towards this fire in the hopes of catching whoever started it before they have time to escape.

This time, it only takes us about five minutes or so to get to the place the smoke is rising from, but we're all so out of breath that we have to stay put for another few seconds to regain some energy.

"On three," Cato says in a hushed voice, "just rush in. I don't think anyone will be there – it's got to be a trick. But we'd be idiots not to make sure."

I nod. "One – two – three!"

As Cato predicted, there's no tribute in sight. I sigh in frustration and open my mouth to suggest heading back to camp, but –

"Holy shit, what was that?" I scream.

The mines. It can't be anything else, nothing else would make that much noise – unless every tribute in the Games died at once and a ton of cannons went off – well. No, not even that. Explosions continue to shake the ground, and it's loud and hurts my ears – eventually I cry out, it's _so loud_ and I'm afraid that I'm going to go deaf – and then it stops.

"Is it over?" says the kid, sounding terrified. Startled, I look down – he's on the ground, curled up in a ball with his hands over his ears.

"You should know!" Cato snarls. "Why were there so many blasts?"

The kid looks terrified. "I – I – they – they were – they weren't supposed to, I mean. I set them up so that one wouldn't set off the others – b-but…"

Cato glares at him, looking too furious to speak. I cut in. "You'd better hope the supplies aren't all destroyed," I growl. "Or you will be in some _deep shit_, you hear?"

He squeaks a little bit – yes, actually _squeaks_ – and nods.

We start running.

While we run, three more mines go off – _why?_ It makes no sense, but all four of us manage to stay on our feet each time. With each passing second, I grow more and more furious.

How dare someone try to steal our supplies? Because what else could it have been? The nerve of some tributes! And now they're dead – obviously. We didn't hear a cannon, but it must've been lost in the mine blasts. I'm pleased that they've been killed, of course, but now we don't get to kill whoever it was ourselves…

Cato is ahead of me – I try to push myself to run faster, but his rage seems to power him forward. I lose track of time, and before long we enter the clearing.

Everything is destroyed.

Cato screams – like, really screams. "NO! HOW?" Then he starts _tearing out his hair_ – literally. Locks of it surround him, lying on the ground. When that becomes too much, he falls to his knees and starts punching the ground – come on, now, Cato. What's that going to do?

Maybe he really _is_ insane.

The kid carefully approaches the ashes that used to be our supplies – I see that he's holding a pile of stones. One by one, he throws them into the ashes.

"They've all been activated," he says, his voice trembling.

We all stand there in shock for a few moments before Cato breaks the silence. "Might as well check to see if there's anything useful left," he says flatly. He starts kicking at a few different items.

I sigh and decide to join him – Marvel and I both poke around the ruins, looking for anything that could still be useful to us.

Nothing.

Suddenly Cato freezes. "It was you," he hisses, turning around to give the kid a death glare. Uh oh. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" he shouts. "This is all your fault – you were trying to sabotage us, weren't you? You set the mines up so that all the supplies would be destroyed!"

"N-no!" the kid stammers. "R-really, I didn't!"

"You did!" Cato's eyes seem to be bulging out of his head. "I'm going to kill you!"

The kid lets out a scream before turning around and attempting to run into the woods, but… Cato catches him. Only seconds pass before the kid is dead – Cato catches him in a headlock and then jerks his head to the side.

Seven of us left… three have died today. District Ten this morning, the kid just now, and whoever set off the mines.

"Cato!" I cry. "Calm down! Please!"

"You're insane, man," Marvel says, shaking his head in apparent disgust.

Cato turns to glare at Marvel, and the smaller boy shrinks back. "SHUT UP!" he roars.

"Cato, please," I say weakly. "We need to handle this properly, and we can only do that if we can cooperate calmly!"

Cato stares at me for a moment, and then he takes a deep breath. "You're right. That was uncalled for. Thanks, Clove."

I nod shakily. "Sure."

"Now let's go!" he insists, pointing to the woods. "We've got to catch whoever did this! Let's go, we're wasting time!"

I roll my eyes and gesture to the sky. "They're dead, aren't they? Do you think anyone could've survived _that?_"

"No way," Marvel agrees, pointing to the sky as well. "They're dead. Whoever it was… we'll know tonight, when they show the faces."

Cato closes his eyes in frustration. _"Fine._ But I still want to get back out there in a couple of hours, okay?"

"Great," I say, relieved. "We'd better move, though, so they can collect the body."

"Right," he mutters, and we all retreat to the other side of the lake. A hovercraft comes and we watch the kid disappear. Forever.

We all sit by the lake for… I don't know. A while. I watch the sun slowly set and wait for the death toll. Soon we'll know…

"Finally," Marvel mutters when we hear the first notes of the anthem. The seal appears in the sky, and then it goes dark again. Then – the kid. He's replaced with the boy from Ten, the one who foolishly wandered into our camp this morning.

"Eleven or Twelve, then," I say quietly. District Ten is replaced by –

The seal.

"_What?"_ I gasp. They – how – what – ?

"What the hell?" Cato manages to get out. "How – they – why isn't anyone else dead?"

"A mistake," Marvel says wildly. "They must've forgotten to show the picture, or – or…"

"Don't be stupid," I snarl. "They just don't forget things like that! Whoever it was that set off the mines… they're still alive."

"Unbelievable," Cato whispers.

I shake my head in a futile attempt to clear it. "No… no. That's impossible, of course. Maybe the kid set them up so that they'd go off at a certain time?"

"He might've been in cahoots with whoever started those fires!" Marvel agrees, sounding excited.

"No," Cato says quietly. "No, that's not it. It was _her._"

"Fire Girl?" I guess.

He nods, and I can see that he's literally shaking with fury. "Yeah. You know what? Let's go. Let's go! We need to hunt!"

I hold back a sigh and decide to just go with it. "…Sure. Let's hunt."

Cato and I put on our night-vision glasses, and Marvel lights a torch – lucky he was carrying it, along with some lighter fluid, with him during our last hunting trip. We begin our trek through the woods grimly.

"Let's think about this," I say when we're under the cover of the trees. "She can't have been acting alone. Those fires – they were a distraction. Fire Girl has an ally."

"Who, though?" Marvel asks.

"Not Lover Boy," Cato says immediately. "He's almost dead. He'll be dead any day now."

"What about District Five?" Marvel suggests.

I shake my head. "No, she was alone when we saw her. That only leaves District Eleven."

"I doubt it was Thresh," Cato says slowly. "I don't think he has any allies. Think about it – he rejected an offer from _us._ Why would he ally with anyone else?"

"Good point," I say fairly. Then a grin spreads across my face. "Little Eleven."

It fits. I didn't notice them being hostile to each other during training – I might've even seen them together once or twice. And… I remember Katniss Everdeen volunteering for her little sister in the reaping – this was before she was Fire Girl, of course. Would that little sister cause her to have a soft spot for the small tribute from District Eleven?

I don't see how it's possible, myself. But I wouldn't put anything past her at this point.

Either way, we're going to kill them both. Someone has to pay for blowing up our supplies, and who would be a better target than our biggest opponent?

"Little Eleven," Cato agrees. I smirk at him, and the unspoken new plan hangs in the air – from now on, even more so than before, our primary targets are Fire Girl and her new accomplice.

* * *

><p><strong>Writing this chapter was... well, at first it was painful. But then I got into it more, and it was really fun. :D Leave a review and tell me what you think... we're up to 80 already! :D<strong>

**Just so you all know, I probably won't be able to update for about a week, because I won't have internet. That's not a guarantee, but that'll most likely be the case. I'll post the next chapter when I get a chance, I promise! **

**Also, a word about their encounter with Foxface. It might not seem entirely realistic, but I figured they needed some more excitement, and... okay. To be completely honest, I just wanted an excuse to make Marvel the bad guy again. Excuse me if I like to add it a little animosity between the allies. ;) It just makes it a little more interesting, you know? And it's really fun to write, if I'm being honest...**

**Sorry for the long author's note... and it would be super awesome if, when I can check my email again, I have lots of review alerts... please? :D I'll be your best friend... ;)**

**~What the Quell**


	17. Well, That Was Unexpected

Chapter Seventeen: Well, That Was Unexpected

"Where the hell could they _be?"_ I ask in frustration. We've been hunting for hours, and we haven't sighted either of our targets. "This is getting ridiculous."

"Why don't we split up?" Marvel suggests.

"Good idea," I say sweetly, turning to him. "Cato and I will stick together, and you can go off on your own. Go on – we'll see you back at camp after we hear a cannon."

Marvel sighs. "That's not what I – oh, forget it." I watch him walk away, grumbling to himself, before I turn to Cato.

"Can we kill him already?" I whine. "He's so irritating!"

He smirks. "I was hoping you'd say that. Tell you what – we'll kill him when we see him again. Agreed?"

"Agreed," I grin happily. "What's the plan, then?"

Cato appears to think about it for a minute. "All right. Why don't we head back to camp, and we'll ambush him. He won't expect us to be back first."

Sounds good to me. "Great! Let's go."

"We should go slowly, we might run into someone," he reminds me.

I shrug. "Sure."

Going at a pace this slow, it takes us a good couple of hours to get back to camp. Not that camp means much anymore, since there's almost nothing left. Needless to say, we don't find anyone. Unsurprising, since there are only eight of us left…

"So, how do you think we should do this?" I ask, biting my lip.

Cato has a good answer ready. "I think you should hide in a tree, and I'll hide behind the Cornucopia. We should camouflage ourselves, too, just in case."

I frown. "How?" I was terrible at that during training – with a small pang of regret I remember Glimmer and I completely failing in our efforts.

"Mud," he says simply, and I wrinkle my nose in disgust.

"Will that really be necessary?"

He nods. "Yep. It's the Hunger Games, little girl, and you'd do well not to forget that. Desperate times call for desperate measures."

Okay. One – desperate times call for desperate measures? Really, Cato? Are you sure this is the Hunger Games, or is it the Make-Yourself-Sound-As-Ridiculous-As-Humanly-Possible Games?

Two – I don't think we're desperate.

Three – I _definitely_ don't think we're so desperate that it's necessary to cover ourselves in mud, of all things! So help me if it comes to that!

"Mud is gross," I remind him.

Cato stares at me in disbelief for about ten seconds and then bursts out laughing. "Are – you – _serious?_" he chokes through his laughter. "We're in the Hunger Games, and you're worried about a bit of mud?"

I glare at him. "Maybe."

He continues to chuckle. "Fine. Forget the camouflage."

"Good," I sigh in relief.

Rolling his eyes, Cato says, "Go climb a tree, already."

I choose a tree that's not too high, but it's got very sturdy branches. That's good. I hoist myself up onto a branch that stretches out into the clearing.

"This good?" I call.

Cato looks at me critically. "Try to hide behind a couple of smaller branches, and he'll have a harder time seeing you."

I do as he says. "Like this?"

"Perfect. When Marvel shows up, just jump down in front of him like you did with the cripple yesterday morning."

"What if there's a cannon?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Just wait. And there probably won't be. We're just about the only tributes capable of killing, it seems. I don't think there's a very good chance. But I suppose if one does go off… we'll just stay put."

He walks over to crouch behind the Cornucopia. "And now, we wait," I mutter to myself. By nightfall, there will be one less tribute in the arena.

I think about my mother while I try to get into a more comfortable position. Of course she's watching – are we on screen right now? Maybe. Does she approve of our plan to kill Marvel? Are Fire Girl and Little Eleven really allies? She'll know. I wish I could talk to her. She'd know what to do.

And what about Dad? I've made it to the final eight with almost no effort – well, unless you count the fire and the tracker jackers. Does he know that I'm coming home, since I've made it this far? Hopefully.

I lean back against the trunk of the tree. Marvel should show up any minute. Actually, I'm surprised he hasn't come back yet, since he usually slacks off when it comes to –

The boom of a cannon jolts me out of my thoughts. Who was that? I squeeze my eyes shut and hope with all my might that it was Fire Girl – although, now that I think about it, I'd rather kill her myself. Actually, it was probably Lover Boy. He's been at death's door for days now.

I stay where I am for a few minutes, like Cato instructed me, and then… another cannon sounds. I peer out from behind the branches, searching for Cato – two deaths in the space of a couple of minutes? When there are only a few of us left? How strange.

I see him jump up from his hiding space and jog over to me. "Who do you think that was?" he asks excitedly.

I shrug. "Could've been anyone, really. Probably Lover Boy, but I don't know about the other one."

Cato nods. "You're probably right. I guess we'll see when they show the faces." He goes back to the Cornucopia.

Night falls. Marvel doesn't return.

Eventually I'm too sick of the tree to stay in it any longer, so I painstakingly climb down and join Cato. "Why isn't he back yet?" I hiss. "When we finally decide to get rid of him… _that's_ when he decides to not show up. Naturally."

"Maybe he got lost," Cato says. "I wouldn't put it past him."

"Maybe," I allow. "Or maybe he went and got himself killed," I add jokingly.

Cato seems to think about it. "You know, that wouldn't surprise me. That would explain the second cannon."

"I was kidding," I say, exasperated. "Who would've – "

"There's Fire Girl," Cato points out. "She… damn."

"What?" I ask immediately.

"Damn it all," he mutters. "I forgot – I meant to tell you – she took Glimmer's bow and arrows. After the tracker jackers. Damn."

I stare at him for a second, and then I start yelling.

"Are you kidding me?" I exclaim. "You have _got_ to be freaking _kidding_ me! You just _forgot_ to mention this? God, Cato, what's the _matter_ with you?"

He holds his hands up defensively. "I'm sorry! I didn't think it was important at the time! I was worried because you hadn't woken up yet! And then you did, and I was just glad you weren't dead! And we all felt like shit from the venom, and we had to go hunting… and I just forgot, okay?"

I glare at him. "Sure," I growl. "You were worried that I wasn't going to wake up? No. You'd worry if we were friends, and we're _not._ We're in the Hunger Games, remember? It would've been much easier for you if I'd died – one less tribute standing in between you and the victor's crown. You're such a liar."

Cato stares at me, lost for words. "I – you – just forget it, Clove," he fumes.

I close my eyes and try to calm down. "Okay. Okay. The important thing is that we know that Fire Girl is an archer – why else would she have stopped to grab the weapons?"

"Right," Cato says, but he's clearly still irritated. Wait – _he's_ irritated at _me?_ What the hell is wrong with our world?

"Look," I sigh. "I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have freaked out like that, but – we're allies! That's the sort of thing you have to tell me. It's important."

"I know," he admits. "And it was stupid of me to forget. But I really was worried about you, you know," he adds quietly.

I look down. I'm not sure how to answer that.

"So," I continue, my voice oddly high-pitched. "Um… there's Fire Girl. I guess she could've killed him. Since she's got weapons. It wouldn't have been Lover Boy, obviously. Maybe Thresh, but I don't know if he has any weapons."

"Maybe," Cato muses. "Or maybe the cannon wasn't his. But he should be back by now."

"I can't believe there are only six of us left," I say slowly. "Little Eleven won't last much longer, that's for sure."

Cato's eyes narrow. "Nope. And she's all yours. We agreed. Although… do you remember her interview?"

I snort. "No."

"She said she was very hard to catch," Cato recalls. "And we know she's a good climber. I noticed during training." Odd. I didn't. "Actually… you know what? I think… after the bloodbath…"

"What?" I ask.

Cato looks sheepish. "Maybe this is a bad time to spring this on you. But it didn't really register. I think I saw her running away… climbing a tree… and I think…"

"_What?_" I ask again, starting to get frustrated.

"It almost looked like she was… jumping into a different tree. I might've just imagined it," he says quickly, seeing the look on my face. "I was busy fighting someone else."

I look up at the sky. "Wow, Cato. Just wow. Is there anything else you've forgotten to mention?" I mean, that doesn't seem very likely. Wouldn't she have run, first, before climbing any trees? Although... she looks very light. She's tiny. Jumping from tree to tree probably wouldn't be much of a challenge for such a small child, especially one raised in District Eleven...

"Like I said, it didn't register," Cato says slowly.

I sigh. "Whatever. So that's why she's hard to catch? Because she can freaking stay in the trees without ever coming down?"

Cato opens his mouth to answer, but he's interrupted by the anthem. About time – I was beginning to wonder if it was ever going to be time for the death recap.

"Finally," he says, smirking.

The first face in the sky is Marvel.

I glance at Cato with wide eyes. I didn't think I'd be surprised – but I am. How could Marvel have died?

My district partner is staring at the sky with his eyebrows raised. After a couple seconds, he slowly starts to clap.

"About time," he says, shaking his head.

"Hush," I scold him, even though I'm actually glad that Marvel's out of the picture. "We need to see who the other one is."

"Oh, it's Lover Boy," Cato says confidently. "I told you he – "

Marvel's face fades and is replaced by Little Eleven's.

My mouth falls open.

What? Not Lover Boy? Impossible, Cato nearly killed him; he should be dead by now. And, how did Little Eleven die? It doesn't make sense – and who killed Marvel? Were the two deaths related?

Cato looks dumbstruck. "What – but – Marvel – and – Lover Boy – he – he should be – what the hell?" he exclaims, raising his voice.

"I don't know," I whisper.

He leaps to his feet. "Let's go. We need to hunt."

I grab his arm and force him back down. "Cato, hunting isn't always the answer! We need to _think _about this, look at it from every angle, and try to figure out what could have happened. We can't do anything rash!" Wow, that sounds weird, coming from me. "So calm down, and let's think."

"But there are a hundred possible answers," he groans. "How are we supposed to know what happened? The only person who would tell us is Marvel, and he's dead!"

"I know," I say, squeezing my eyes shut. "I know. So we need to be careful and make sure to be as certain as possible about what happened, or everything could blow up in our faces."

Cato takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly. "You're right. As usual, though I hate to say it. I guess since there aren't many of us left, this can't be too hard to figure out. There are only so many ways it could've gone… I hope…"

"Exactly," I agree, relieved that he's decided to be rational. "And remember, this is very, very important – if we don't figure this out, it could sway the outcome of the Games."

"How?" he asks, looking as if he's going to panic.

Grimly, I say, "Think about it. There are at least two tributes out there that are dangerous. Very dangerous. With this… we might be able to identify one of their strengths, or weaknesses, or alliances…"

"Or it could mean nothing," he reminds me softly. "Maybe the two deaths were unrelated. Little Eleven might've run into Thresh, and Marvel could've tripped over his own spear."

"Maybe," I sigh. "I don't think so, somehow. But I'm guessing that whatever it was, we'll find out what happened soon enough… one way or the other."

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah, I know I said it'd be a week before I updated this, but guess what? I have internet! :D So, here's Chapter 17. We're almost to the end, guys... the epilogue will be Chapter 21. I really don't want to kill Clove off... :(<strong>

**I'm going to insert a bit of shameless advertising for my other story here. If you haven't already, I'd love it if you'd check out my one-shot, "Quell". It's about the Quarter Quells (in case that wasn't obvious...), since I've always been wondered them. Also, I'm planning another fic after I finish this one, I'm going to put a description on my profile so I might actually feel motivated to write it. ;)**

**I think that's all... oh. One more thing. Bet you'll never guess... **

**REVIEW! XD**

**~What the Quell**


	18. The Puzzle

Chapter Eighteen: The Puzzle

_This can't be that hard,_ I try to reason with myself. _I mean, there are only six of us left… well, there were eight when this happened, I suppose. Cato and I weren't involved. Lover Boy can't be strong enough to do anything. Obviously Marvel and Little Eleven were, since they both died… that leaves Fire Girl, Thresh, and District Five._

We decide to get some rest before we try to unravel this. Cato sleeps for a couple hours while I guard, and then we switch – well, I don't exactly sleep. With so few of us left, that would be unwise. Cato could turn on me at any time. Plus, we have to sleep out in the open, since our tents were destroyed when the mines went off.

When the first rays of light make our surroundings visible, we get to work.

"We need to think of every possible scenario," I tell Cato. "Every last one." I look up at the sky – right now, it'd be great if Enobaria and Yoh sent us some paper and a pencil, or something.

He nods. "Yup. There are a hell of a lot of possibilities, though. It could take a while to get through all of them."

That's very true. "It'll be hard to keep them straight, too." I'm struck with an idea, and I pull a knife from my backpack. I lead Cato to a small space where the dirt is smooth.

"I'll scratch it in," I suggest. "That way it'll be easier." I spent most of my time back in District Two training, but my dad insisted that I learn how to read and write as well.

"Good idea," Cato says, grinning.

After a while, we've come up with a few simple ideas, and they're engraved in the ground in my clumsy handwriting.

_1. Fire Girl killed Marvel and Little Eleven._

_2. Thresh killed Marvel and Little Eleven._

_3. Marvel and Little Eleven killed each other simultaneously._

_4. Marvel killed Little Eleven and Thresh killed Marvel._

_5. Marvel killed Little Eleven and Fire Girl killed Marvel._

_6. District Five killed Marvel and Little Eleven._

_7. Lover Boy killed Marvel and Little Eleven._

_8. The deaths were unrelated._

"Should we go through these one at a time?" Cato asks, looking dubious at the thought.

"That's probably the best idea," I sigh. "Wait – what's _that?_" I can't be sure, because it's pretty far away, but I think there's a column of smoke rising in the distance.

"Fire Girl," Cato guesses. "Lover Boy can't start a fire, District Five is trying to hide, and Thresh isn't stupid enough."

"Should we track her?" I ask uncertainly.

There's a pause. "Um… maybe we should stay here," Cato says slowly. "It's probably a trick, anyway, like when they blew up the supplies. We don't want to waste time, right? So we should get started on the list."

I know we have legitimate reasons for staying away, but there might be more to it than that. I push the thought from my mind.

"Okay, let's have a go at the first one. Fire Girl killed Marvel and Little Eleven."

Cato doesn't appear to even think about it. "Definitely a possibility. I mean, she killed Glimmer and Shell without a second thought, didn't she? I wouldn't put it past her. Marvel was too stupid to avoid her, I'm guessing, and Little Eleven was too small, maybe."

"That could be it," I agree. "But we thought Fire Girl and Little Eleven might've been allies. Why would she kill her?"

He shrugs. "It's the Hunger Games. That's how it works."

Fair enough. "I guess. Um… what did Marvel have with him when we were hunting?"

Cato thinks about it for a bit. "Some food and water, a few knives, his spear. A bit of rope, too. I don't know why though. He sucks at making traps."

"Right," I murmur. "So… we'll say that this one is definitely possible. Moving on."

"Thresh killed Marvel and Little Eleven," Cato reads. "This wouldn't surprise me either. A little odd, since Thresh and Little Eleven are district partners."

"Like you said, it's the Hunger Games," I point out.

He nods, agreeing with me. "Yeah. It is. We know Thresh didn't like any of us, so he might've just had an opening to take out Marvel and didn't have a problem with that. But I can't picture him killing the little girl."

"Maybe she got in the way," I suggest.

"Maybe. Or maybe Thresh just had an opening and took advantage of it."

"That could be it," I agree. "So this one is possible, too."

"Next," Cato says. I can tell he's getting frustrated already.

"Marvel and Little Eleven killed each other simultaneously," I read from the ground. Cato catches my eye and we both start to laugh.

"To be completely honest," I tell him through my laughter, "I'm positive that didn't happen. Marvel might've killed her, but… you said Little Eleven ran from the Cornucopia, right? So she probably didn't have any weapons, even if she managed to grab something small. Like food or something. And she was so small… she wouldn't have stood a chance against any of us. Even Marvel."

"No, I don't think so," he agrees. "Why did we even write that one down?"

"We had to consider every possibility," I say. Has he forgotten already? "You never know. Maybe she had some sort of skill and they _did_ kill each other at the same time. Even if it's not very likely."

"Clove." Cato gives me a look. "Do you really think that could've happened?"

I have to grin. "No. Of course not. I'm not stupid, Cato, but it's a scenario that would've ended in both their deaths. That's why we wrote it down."

He rolls his eyes. "Next. Marvel killed Little Eleven and Thresh killed Marvel."

I frown. "You know, I think this one is pretty likely. Marvel could've easily taken out Little Eleven. Not much she could've done. Maybe Thresh felt like he had to… I don't know, avenge her or something? The poorer districts are strange, maybe they have some tradition like that."

Cato seems to agree with me. "You're right. Maybe they were even allies."

I dismiss that idea with a humorless laugh. "I doubt it. Remember, he wouldn't ally with _us,_ so why would he want to associate with someone like her? All it would've done is jeopardize his chances of winning."

"Good point. Maybe Marvel killed Little Eleven and Thresh just happened to walk by."

I roll my eyes. "What are the odds of that?"

He sighs. "I know, I know. We'll call it possible and move on, then."

I glance at the list and bite my lip. This is the one that… worries me. "Marvel killed Little Eleven and Fire Girl killed Marvel."

Cato's eyes tighten, and I can tell he's thinking the same thing as I am. "This… is very possible. And that's not good."

"No, it's not," I agree. "We already figured out that Fire Girl and Little Eleven were probably allies, since Fire Girl couldn't have blown up the supplies alone. And Little Eleven was the only tribute who would've allied with her. So… well, they must've been separated when Fire Girl blew everything up. Because Little Eleven lit the fires."

I can see that Cato knows where this is going. "You think Marvel caught Little Eleven… and killed her… and Fire Girl killed him?"

"It's a distinct possibility," I say grimly.

He frowns. "Marvel could easily have killed Little Eleven. I think it's safe to assume that happened. But how could Fire Girl have found them? The cannons were only a couple of minutes apart."

I snort. "Little Eleven is – well, she's _little._ She probably screamed."

"Right," he mutters. "And… we know Fire Girl's an archer. Maybe while Marvel was killing Little Eleven, Fire Girl shot him?"

"Maybe," I allow. "I'd say… probably. But we still have to consider a couple other theories before we draw any conclusions."

"Quit making this complicated," Cato says quietly. I shoot him an icy glare, and he shuts his mouth immediately.

"Next," I say firmly. "District Five killed Marvel and Little Eleven. Or, I guess it's possible that Marvel killed Little Eleven and District Five killed Marvel. Either one."

Cato makes a face. "I don't see that happening. We've hardly seen her at all since the start of the Games, except for the other day. I doubt Marvel would run into her, and I'm sure she wouldn't be able to kill him. She's small, too."

"But Marvel is – I mean, he was an idiot," I point out. "I wouldn't put it past him to get killed by… well, just about anyone in here."

"Fair," he allows. "I just don't see that happening. Since we didn't get District Five at the Cornucopia she must've run right away, so she probably doesn't have a weapon. Marvel had a spear. How would she kill him?"

"Good point," I admit grudgingly. "I guess that one's unlikely."

Cato looks pleased. "Next – Lover Boy killed Marvel and Little Eleven." He looks over at me, appearing to be somewhat irritated. "Why do we think that's possible, again?"

I shrug. "It's not likely. He's alive, though, isn't he? He must be doing something right."

"He's in no shape to kill anyone," Cato insists. "I've told you before, I know where I cut him! I'm shocked he hasn't bled to death yet! He'll die any day now!"

I raise my hands up defensively. "Fine! Fine. We'll scratch that one." I cross out that line with my knife using exaggerated motions to appease my ally. "That only leaves one more. Maybe the deaths were unrelated."

Cato looks at me skeptically. "Clove, that's not impossible, but it's borderline. Before this happened, there were only eight of us left. Two of us were here. One is out there bleeding to death. Two of the others were probably allies. One refused to be in an alliance, and the other was in ours. And the last doesn't do much of anything. We know that we weren't involved, and it's safe to assume that neither was Lover Boy or District Five. That only leaves Thresh, Fire Girl, Marvel, and Little Eleven. Marvel and Little Eleven were the ones that died, right? So if the deaths were unrelated, either Thresh or Fire Girl would've had to kill Marvel, and the other would've had to kill Little Eleven. And… I don't think either of them would've killed the little girl."

I stare at him for a moment. "And you snapped at me for making this confusing," I say in disbelief. "Cato, I know you were trying to simplify everything, but – "

"I know," he interrupts. "But do you get what I'm saying?"

"Yes," I say in defeat.

"I think it's safe to assume that Marvel killed Little Eleven. So, really… the only question is, who killed Marvel? Thresh or Fire Girl?"

"Fire Girl," I say quietly. "We're pretty sure they were allies, so… well, it makes sense. I mean, Fire Girl bought the romance stuff, right? Even if it was real, it seems like she could be sentimental. Might've thought she needed to avenge her ally. Plus," I add, "I think it might've been because of her sister. Fire Girl volunteered. Her sister is the same age as Little Eleven, right? Or close to it."

Cato tilts his head to the side. "I got what you were saying at first, about her being sentimental… but the part about her sister is nonsense."

I sigh. "Either way. And," I say, disgusted, "I'm pissed at them both."

"Who?" he asks, sounding surprised.

"Marvel. Fire Girl. I wanted to kill Little Eleven. Marvel knew that, and he killed her. I wanted to kill Marvel. Fire Girl killed him. Dammit."

Cato chuckles. "At least they're both out of the picture, right?"

"I suppose," I say, disgruntled.

"There's still Fire Girl," he reminds me. "And Lover Boy, if we find him before he kicks the bucket. And District Five… we found her once, we'll find her again. Then there's Thresh, and with the two of us, he'll be an easy kill."

I try to hold back my smile… and I fail miserably. "You're right. I guess."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm always right, little girl."

"Don't call me that," I snap irritably. "Little Eleven was a _little girl._ I'm not. _Little girls_ end up dead in the arena. Just like – guess who? Like Little Eleven! _Don't call me that._"

Cato raises his eyebrows. "Fine, fine. Damn, you can be scary sometimes."

"I know, psycho," I say teasingly, and then I giggle and scamper away before he can work out what I've just said.

"CLOVE!" Hmm. Seems as though he's a bit irritated.

I scurry up the Cornucopia. "Going to kill me, Cato?" I ask loftily. He growls.

"You know I won't, not until we get to the others. But that was _low,_ Flair!"

I smirk. "I'm not known for letting an opportunity pass, _Vripah._ And face it – you were totally asking for that one."

"Was not," Cato mutters rebelliously. My grin widens.

"Be nice, Cato. We've all taken cheap shots. Now, I'm going to come down. Remember that if you kill me, Enobaria and Yoh probably won't send you any lunch."

This distracts him. "Um… more like dinner," he says, gesturing to the sky. I look up – oh, wow. We must've been debating for a _long_ time.

"Damn! How did that happen?"

"Dunno," he says carelessly. "But I'm hungry." The words have just left his mouth when a silver parachute drifts slowly down toward us – we grab for it eagerly.

"Yay," I say happily. Our mentors have sent us a large meal – there's chicken in orange sauce, which I remember eating in the Capitol, along with rice, cold noodles covered in cheese, fruit, vegetables, and a bit of bread. How could they have afforded this? I have a feeling we won't be getting more food for a while. But this should keep us full for quite some time... and either way, I'm hungry.

"Thanks, Yoh, Enobaria," Cato says, turning his face wildly around, apparently hoping that a camera will catch his grin.

"Yes, thanks so much!" I agree. "Wow. I feel really stupid talking to a camera I can't even see."

He laughs. "Yeah. But I remembered what you said to Marvel when we were killing the cripple. Something about manners. Wouldn't want to be _rude,_ would I?"

I snort. "Of course not. Now let's eat."

We divide up the food quickly, and it's all fantastic… although those noodles are so rich that I can hardly eat my whole share of it. But again, it's nice to have real fruit… not that there's much dried fruit left, since Fire Girl blew up the supplies.

I smile serenely as I finish eating – all that food has made me feel oddly… sleepy. "I can't wait to go back to the Capitol. I love the food there."

Cato grins. "Me, too."

We sit quietly as the sky slowly turns dark, and soon, the anthem is playing. There are no faces in the sky, of course. The audience will be eager for another death. I wonder who will be next – all I know for sure is that it won't be me.

And then I hear trumpets. Cato and I both leap to our feet. I turn to Cato excitedly. "Do you think there's going to be a feast?" I ask, thrilled by the thought.

He shrugs. "I hope so. Seems like that must be it, since no one's died in over a day. And most of us would show up to a feast."

That must be it. I smile to myself – when I was little, I always imagined attending a feast in the Games. Then Claudius Templesmith's voice surrounds us, and I bounce up and down in anticipation. Cato is laughing at me, but he stops abruptly when I menacingly fix him with a death stare.

"Congratulations to the final six contestants in the seventy-fourth Hunger Games!" the announcer exclaims. "If you're standing up, you might want to sit down, because I have some very exciting news for you!" Cato and I exchange a tense glance and then carefully sink to the ground. You just never know in the Hunger Games.

"I'm very pleased to announce that there has been a rule change in the Games!"

My mouth drops open in shock. A rule change? There are virtually no rules in the Hunger Games, except the obvious _kill or be killed_. That, and if you step off your metal plate before the gong rings out at the start of the Games, you'll be blown to bits. Oh, and there's the unspoken rule banning cannibalism. What, are they going to revoke that or something? Whoever eats the most tributes gets extra food, or something like that?

"Under the new rule, if the last two tributes standing are from the same district, they will both be declared victors." I frown in confusion. Wait… _WHAT?_

"One more time – I know this is a bit confusing. If the last two tributes alive are from the _same_ district, they will _both _be declared victors. Have a good night, tributes." There's a small burst of static and then… silence.

I turn slowly to face Cato, eyes wide with shock.

* * *

><p><strong>Yay! The rule change! :D So, a couple things to say about this chapter.<strong>

**It might seem unlikely that Clove and Cato would've been able to figure out what happened with Marvel and Rue. But the Careers are _smart_, people, and that's why I wanted to include all this. And remember, at the feast Clove told Katniss how they had killed her "pathetic little ally... the one who hopped around in the trees", so they must've known about Katniss and Rue too. I thought it would be more likely that they figured it out instead of spying on them, because honestly the Careers probably would've attacked on the spot. **

**Also, the bit where Clove and Cato are playfully arguing. I wanted to write something like that to show that, again, the Careers are more than just mindless killing machines. And the way I've written this story so far, they wouldn't have killed each other until they reached the final two anyway.**

**So, yeah. This chapter was super fun to write. :) Please, please, please review! It's one of your last chances... the end is near... I was writing this, and I realized that Clove is the next one to die. :'( So review while you have a chance, please!**

**~What the Quell**


	19. The Best Feeling Ever

Chapter Nineteen: The Best Feeling Ever

I rise slowly and shakily to my feet. "What – what did he just say?" I whisper, my voice trembling.

Cato stares at me, openmouthed. "I…"

The news slowly starts to sink in. Both of us can win… can live. If we're the last two alive…

A smile begins to spread across my face. "Cato! Oh, my God – we can both win!"

The truth of the matter seems to be dawning on him as well. "Clove…" He grins.

Suddenly he leaps to his feet. "We can win!" he shouts joyously. "Yes!" Before I know what's happening, he's lifted me off my feet and is spinning me around as though I weigh no more than a piece of bread.

"Put me down!" I shriek, but I'm laughing at the same time. "I mean it, Cato, you're making me dizzy!"

Cato laughs loudly. "Get over it, little girl," he says teasingly. For once, I don't berate him for using the humiliating nickname.

I close my eyes. "I… I just can't believe it." I smile widely.

"I know," he agrees, and I open my eyes.

"Why do you think they did that?" I ask wonderingly. Nothing could have set the precedent for this…

Cato rolls his eyes. "Why do you need a reason?" he says questioningly. "Just face it – we're too awesome to die. Isn't that enough?"

I sigh happily. "For now."

Then I snap back to reality. "Wait."

He looks over at me, apparently concerned by my sudden change in tone. "What?"

My eyes tighten. "Two isn't the only district with both tributes still alive, Cato," I remind him tensely. "Twelve."

Cato freezes, and then he groans. "Damn."

I hesitate. "Well… I guess we'll just have to fix that, then, won't we?" As if there are any other options.

"Of course," he agrees quickly. "It'll be easy. And then we can go home."

"Good," I whisper. "I mean… don't get me wrong, I love it here. But I want to see my parents, and Enobaria, and Brutus, and Maio…" I trail off.

"Me too," Cato agrees. "So we'll finish this as soon as possible."

I nod determinedly. "To hell with District Twelve. They aren't taking this from us."

We grin at each other. After a minute, Cato speaks. "You haven't slept for a long time, you know. Do you want to take a nap or something? I can guard," he offers.

"I don't think I could sleep if I tried," I admit. True, it's been a while since I last slept, but I'm too hyper right now to lie down. "I'm just… not tired."

He laughs shortly. "I guess I can understand that."

"I would hope," I giggle quietly. He rolls his eyes.

A thought comes to me a little bit late. "Wait, no, I slept this morning before we tried to figure out what happened with Marvel and Little Eleven. I guess I just forgot, but that explains why I'm not tired."

Cato snorts. "Yeah, right. I know you didn't sleep. Neither of us did. It'd be suicidal, when we're down to the final six."

I raise and eyebrow challengingly. "Would you have killed me in my sleep, Cato? I have to say, I didn't think you'd ever stoop that low."

Rolling his eyes again, he mutters, "Of course not. You're impossible." But he grins at me anyway.

We end up sitting by the lake again. It's the most peaceful place in the arena, I think – I just love it.

And of course we end up talking.

"You know," I say thoughtfully, "I know neither of us really thought about what our talents would be… but I think we have to now. Since we're both going to win. I mean, we have to do something, right?"

Cato frowns. "That's true. I dunno… I'm not really good at anything."

I snort. "Please, Cato. Just please."

He smiles faintly. "Fine. Correction – I'm not good at anything besides using weapons."

"Better," I say.

He shrugs. "I guess I could go into the weaponry business." Then he grins wickedly. "I could – ah – _test_ them to see if they work properly. I'd be okay with that."

I smirk. "Sounds good. I wouldn't mind that either. Although I still think it'd be fun to be a stylist. For the Games, you know…"

Cato raises his eyebrows. "I forgot about that. You mentioned that in your interview, right? Not the part about the Games, but designing clothes."

"Yeah. I kind of forgot about it too, actually. What with being here… I guess actually being in the arena is kind of distracting."

"Agreed."

We sit in silence for another couple of minutes, just thinking. Or at least I am. How are the Games going to play out now? Obviously Cato and I are going to win, but when will we get a chance to kill the others? Maybe there'll be a feast or something. I doubt District Five would show up, somehow… we've hardly seen her at all since the beginning of the Games. She's probably hiding somewhere far away from us… though that doesn't explain why she was here the other day. And what about the pair from Twelve? They'll team up, naturally, but Fire Girl won't be able to bring Lover Boy back from what's as good as the dead. He'll die, she'll be upset – I don't believe she loves him, but they'll become closer, as allies, Cato and I are proof of that – and she'll be an easy kill. That only leaves Thresh… and between Cato and I, he won't be a problem.

For about the billionth time since entering the arena, I wonder what's going on back home. My parents are going to be thrilled, naturally – my mother will be happy about all the publicity she'll receive, and my dad will just be happy that this increases my chances of coming home safely.

Enobaria and Yoh are probably in shock right now. More than that, they'll be irritated, because now they'll be forced to work together for a longer period of time. Not that Cato and I were planning on breaking the alliance until we were down to the final two anyway. Ha.

"How long do you think this is going to last?" Cato asks suddenly. "We've been in here for… how long now?

I have to think about it. "Um… a little over a week, maybe?"

He nods. "Sounds about right. It can't go on for too much longer, can it?"

"I wouldn't think," I say slowly. "But we're down to the final six, so it's not like there's going to be a death every day anymore. This is where it gets interesting."

"Right. So… what's the plan?"

I smile half-heartedly. "Same as always, isn't it? Kill people."

Cato frowns. "You make us sound evil when you say that."

I smirk. "Do I care?"

He sighs. "I changed my mind. You don't just _sound_ evil."

My smirk shifts into a scowl. "Watch it."

Now _he_ smirks at _me_ – damn him. "Like you'd kill me at this point. You couldn't win without me, little girl."

"Shut it," I advise him. "I let you get away with calling me that once. Don't expect it to happen again."

He just laughs at me. "Whatever, Clove."

"You say that a lot," I mumble.

Cato snickers. "I know."

We enter another silent period. I'm wondering how I got stuck with such an irritating district partner when a strange thought enters my mind.

"Why?" I ask him curiously, momentarily forgetting that he has no clue what I'm talking about.

"What?" Cato says, looking baffled.

"You know. A while ago, you kept trying to get me to go to sleep. Why was that?"

To my surprise, Cato looks kind of… embarrassed. "No reason. Just… trying to be a good… ally."

I don't miss the hesitation there. "You were about to say something else," I accuse him.

He sighs, surrendering. "I guess… I was going to say friend. But that doesn't really work, does it?"

I grin. "It does now."

I turn to face him completely when he doesn't respond right away – and I'm met with a strange sight. Cato seems to be having some internal debate… and the expression on his face is hilarious. I'm very tempted to laugh at him.

"What?" I giggle. "You look funny."

He rolls his eyes. "I think it really has been too long since you slept, Clove. You're hysterical."

"Am not," I argue. "You're mean. And you looked like you were going to say something else. What was it?"

His eyes narrow. "Nothing."

"Liar!" I exclaim. "Tell me."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" he argues.

I tug on a lock of my hair in frustration. "Cato, I swear to God if you don't tell me whatever the hell you were thinking _right this second,_ I'll slit your throat." I draw a knife threateningly to prove my point.

He raises his hands in front of him. "I'll make a deal with you. Take a nap. Hold it," he warns when I start to protest. "If you do, I'll tell you."

I huff in annoyance. "Fine." I lie down on my side – no tents anymore. "I'm not tired," I add in a whiny voice.

It seems that he couldn't care less. "Clove, I really couldn't care less."

Whoa. I'm good.

"Just go to sleep," Cato finishes.

I glare at him and close my eyes. I do have to admit, it's nice, being able to fall asleep without having to worry about being attacked. Cato is the only one here who would stand even the slightest chance against me, and now that we're a team – a _real_ team – I can sleep without worrying that he'll try to kill me. It's nice to feel… safe.

Wow. Did I really just think that?

Maybe I really do need to go to sleep.

I'm surprised when I wake up – one, because I don't remember falling asleep at all, and two, because I slept for so long. It looks like it must be late afternoon at least… but it's still really, really hot.

"Why didn't you wake me up sooner?" I demand when I spot Cato a few yards away from me. It was still dark when I went to sleep!

He shrugs. "You needed rest. And…" Oh no. He looks guilty again. "There was sort of a fire off in the distance… but I figured that it was a ruse anyway, and… I didn't want to wake you up…"

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Of course."

"Are you mad at me?" Cato sounds worried. Good.

I glare at him fiercely. "Never mind. So, what were you going to say earlier?"

Cato sighs. "Is there any way I can get out of telling you?" he asks warily.

I shake my head. "Nope."

"You're just going to yell at me," he warns.

"Wait." I'm hit with a vague memory. "Didn't you say something like that to me before? After the tracker jacker attack?"

He nods, grimacing. "Well… that's kind of what it's about…"

"You were trying to get me to take a nap," I recall, "and you said that. Only, it was weird, because you'd just said the same thing about sleep two seconds before…"

"Right," he mutters. "Because that's not what I was talking about." Then he freezes, as if he wishes he could take back those words.

"What?" I ask incredulously. "Then… what were you going to say?"

Cato looks at the ground. "Do you remember? I looked over at you, and I was about to say… something… and you asked what… and I said you'd just yell at me if I told you. You assumed I was trying to get you to take a nap."

I try to push him forward. "And… you weren't?"

"No," he admits. "I… I was thinking about breaking off the alliance. Completely."

I stare at him, speechless. "Why?" I whisper. It's strange that it hurts to hear this, but it does.

He sighs. "Because… I didn't want to kill you."

What's my brilliant response to that?

"Um…"

"I know," he interrupts. "It was stupid. But… I guess… you'd started to feel like a friend. And I guess I didn't want it to come down to just us… because killing you… it would've sucked," he finishes lamely.

I force myself to meet his eyes. "I didn't want to kill you either," I tell him quietly.

Cato's eyebrows shoot upwards. "Really?"

"Really," I say, a smile forming on my face. "I kept hoping someone else would kill you before I had to… because I didn't want to."

He smiles widely. "Well, in that case… I think this rule change is a very good thing."

I grin back at him. "It's taken you this long to figure that out?"

He rolls his eyes – and I notice the bags under them. "Cato!" I say, shocked. Damn. "When was the last time _you_ slept?"

He shrugs. "Not sure."

"Take a nap!" I order him. "Just… for a little while, okay? I feel like a bad friend, letting you stay up all the time."

Cato smiles. "Don't worry about it," he says, but he lies down and appears to fall asleep almost immediately.

I sigh and lean my head back to watch the nightly death toll – nothing, obviously. Cato's acting a bit strange… but I guess we've both had a bit of a shock. It's understandable. I'm actually glad he made me sleep, though, because I feel very rested now, which will be good when something exciting happens.

Cato ends up sleeping for a ridiculously long time – so long that I'm getting very bored just sitting here. The sky turns light, and the sun makes it's way across the sky. Anyway, he's eventually woken up when the trumpets blare suddenly through the arena, and we both leap to our feet, just like before Claudius Templesmith announced the rule change.

"Congratulations to the final six contestants of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games!" booms the announcer. "I'm here to invite you all to a feast!"

I exchange a thrilled glance with Cato. A feast!

"Now hold on. Some of you may already be declining my invitation. But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you needs something desperately."

What? We don't need anything desperately.

"Each of you will find that something in a backpack marked with your district number, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this could be your last chance."

That's the end of the announcement. I look at Cato. "What do we need desperately?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Nothing that I can think of. Maybe we'll need something soon and we just don't know it yet."

I smirk. "Either way, we're going to kick some ass tomorrow morning." Yes, this is going to be good.

* * *

><p><strong>Wow. Almost the end, guys! One more chapter after this, plus the epilogue... and Clove's story is over. :( <strong>

**Anyway. This chapter was interesting to write, since I could be creative with Cato and Clove's reaction to the rule change. I hope it lived up to your expectations! Let me know? :D**

**Also. (Wow, I seem to really like these one word sentences at the beginning of paragraphs. Sorry.) I got a review recently that made me laugh so I thought I'd share a part of it. It's from an anonymous reviewer, and the end of the review reads: "Bravo, take a freakin' bow, kid." That... made my day. xD I laughed so hard. **

**So. (Okay, that one was on purpose...) That leads up to what I've been saying since the beginning: REVIEW! Pretty please? You don't even have to have an account, for those of you who don't know that! Seriously. Just click the button that says "Review this Chapter" and leave a review! It doesn't matter if you loved it or if you hated it (if you hated it just tell me why). Just review! Please! :D**

**One last thing. I mentioned a while ago that I'm planning another fic... I didn't give a lot of details. It's about Marvel, basically the same thing as what I've done with Clove... going through his time in the Capitol and the Games. I'm writing it mainly because I thought of a title I want to use, "They Call Me Stupid." I'm putting this here in case you haven't seen it on my profile, because I'd really like opinions about whether anyone would be interested in reading it. Thoughts? ;)**

**Argh, sorry for the long author's note. :P Review! :)**

**~What the Quell**


	20. Sticks and Stones

Chapter Twenty: Sticks and Stones

"We need a plan for the feast," Cato says. _No, really?_ I think sarcastically. "We have the opportunity to take out one or two major competitors, and if we screw this up…" The unspoken words hang in the air.

"Agreed," I say quickly. "So let's simplify this. I think we both know that our biggest threats are Thresh and Fire Girl."

Cato scowls. "Yeah. Not for long, though, if we handle this properly."

I sigh. "Well, yes, but we need to think about how to take them out. We can't get sidetracked thinking about how much we hate the two of them. It'll just slow us down. We need to _focus_ and decide what our strategy's going to be at this feast."

"Right," he mutters. He glances up and meets my eyes. "I've been thinking about it, and I've decided that it would be fair to both of us if we could each take out one of the tributes we hate. I mean, obviously it'd be best if we can kill them together… but in case that doesn't work out…"

"Good idea," I agree. "So… who gets who?"

Cato closes his eyes briefly. "I… I don't know."

Honestly… I really want to kill Fire Girl. I want to kill her like I've never wanted anything before. She needs to pay – she's made us look like fools, and she's somehow managed to stay alive for this long – something very rare for a tribute from Twelve. She can't be allowed to live… and I want to be the one that rids the world of her.

"I want Fire Girl." Oh, shit, I said that out loud, didn't I?

Cato opens his eyes and looks at me. "I know. So… have her."

My mouth flies open. "Are you _serious?_"

He grins at my shocked expression. "Yes, Clove, I'm serious. I want to kill her too, but there's Thresh to think about. Here's my guess – Fire Girl will show up to the feast, and Thresh will too, but he'll be more… evasive. Lover Boy won't show up, of course, and neither will District Five."

I tilt my head sideways. "What do you mean, Thresh will be evasive?"

"Maybe that's the wrong word," Cato allows. "I doubt he'll just… charge in. He'll probably just hang around on the edges waiting for an opportunity… he seems like he'd be more cautious when it comes to this stuff."

"True…"

"Oh, I almost forgot," Cato says, grinning. "There is… a condition."

"For what?" I ask, confused.

"For killing Fire Girl."

I raise my eyebrows. "And what exactly is this condition?"

"Oh, it's pretty simple," Cato assures me, unable to keep the smile off his face completely. "Just… make sure to give the audience a good show. Get what I'm saying?"

I beam. "Absolutely."

"Good," he says, sounding satisfied. "Let's plan this thing, then."

The basic plan is pretty simple. We're assuming that the table holding… whatever it is we need desperately will be relatively close to the Cornucopia – that's usually how it works. I'll hide behind a tree – how original – on the far right side of the forest that surrounds our clearing. Cato will go farther into the woods on the far left side.

"Fire Girl will probably just rush right in when she sees the table, since she won't be able to see us. She might even assume we aren't here," Cato guesses. "We know she's kind of stupid, even if she can shoot. I wouldn't put it past her."

"You're probably right," I agree. "So… I'll just follow her, I guess."

"Try to hit her from behind before you do," Cato advises me. "Just to weaken her a little… and then jump in and pin her down. I'll cover you."

"Thanks," I say gratefully. It doesn't cross my mind to doubt him. He's my ally. He wouldn't hurt me.

He shrugs. "Not a problem. I'll have to watch for Thresh anyway."

I nod. "Right. And remember, it's just… _so_ important that Fire Girl doesn't get her… package. Because it's got to be medicine for Lover Boy. I'm assuming you cut him pretty deep – and a wound like that won't heal naturally…"

"No, it won't," Cato agrees. "He'll be waiting for her somewhere. And… the only person that leaves is District Five, and I'm sure she won't show up. She's done a pretty good job of avoiding everyone so far, and it'd be suicidal for her to come to a feast."

"Exactly." There's not much else to say, except… "Let's go figure out where we're going to hide."

I choose a nice, large tree that can conceal my entire body if someone were looking from either the middle of the clearing or the other side of the edge of the forest – and at the same time, I have a full view of the entire clearing. We check this over and over… just to be certain. We can't have Fire Girl charging at me and ruining our careful plans just because my hiding spot isn't good enough.

Cato is a little harder because he's so… well, huge. There's nothing that can conceal him properly.

"Why don't you just camouflage yourself?" I suggest after about an hour of trying and failing to find a suitable hiding spot for my district partner.

He looks at me with mock horror. "Not with mud!"

I scowl. "Shut up. I guess you'll just have to go farther into the woods… and be really quiet."

Right as I say that, he steps on a twig.

I glare at him. "Did you not hear what I just said?"

Cato smirks. "My bad." And then – I swear this is deliberate – he steps on another one.

"Cato!" I hiss. "Would you quit snapping the damn twigs?"

"Maybe," he snickers.

"Fine," I huff. "Whatever. I don't give a shit."

He rolls his eyes. "Wow, someone's irritable today. I'd think that after you took such a long nap you'd be in a better mood."

"You slept about five times longer than I did," I tell him bitingly. "I've already been awake for a while. It's not like I just woke up or anything."

"Whatever, Clove."

I'm so busy glaring at him that at first I don't notice the silver parachute drifting towards us – but then I do see it, and I grab for it eagerly. It's been too long since we've gotten a sponsor gift. The parachute contains a large loaf of fluffy Capitol bread, two water bottles, and a small bottle of iodine.

"Would've taken them about ten seconds to fill those up," Cato says, raising his eyebrows at the water bottles. I roll my eyes at him.

"We were almost out of water anyway." It's true – there's only a small amount left in my canteen, and most of the iodine was blown up. "Be grateful."

I can tell he's trying very hard not to roll his eyes at me. "Sure."

We sit by the lake for a while sipping newly purified water and eating some of the bread. I also use some of the time to arrange several knives neatly in my jacket. Eventually the sky grows dark – of course, neither of us are tired, having napped recently. We just continue to sit for another few hours until we guess that sunrise is approaching.

"We should take our places," Cato says, grinning.

I giggle. "It's show time."

He sighs. "Promise me you'll make this good, all right? I'm letting you kill Fire Girl, so don't disappoint me, please."

"I promise," I say with mock solemnity.

Cato smiles. "Good. And… Clove? Be careful."

"I will," I say, smiling back at him.

"I mean it," he says, trying to sound threatening. "If you go and die on me now, I'm going to kill you."

I snort. "Don't worry about it."

Suddenly Cato has me in a bear hug, and I can barely breathe. "Have fun with this," he reminds me. "But be safe." He releases me and then walks away without another word.

I stand still for a moment, and then I walk over to my tree. I grab two knives, holding one in each hand… just so I'm ready. And I wait.

I'm sure Thresh and Fire Girl are here by now, but they've come quietly – I don't see them anywhere. They'd be fools to reveal themselves before the feast appeared…

The sky is slowly growing lighter – it won't be much longer before the Cornucopia is gleaming in the sun, and the supplies will appear… and Thresh and Fire Girl will be dead. Lover Boy will die without his precious medicine… and Cato and I will easily find and kill District Five. She escaped us once, and we'll make sure it never happens again.

And then we'll go home. Well… more accurately, we'll go to the Capitol and then back to District Two… but hopefully not for long. Maio said that I could live in the Capitol, and I'll do whatever it takes to have the life I want.

Now, where is this damn feast? It's growing light very quickly, and there's still nothing here. Claudius Templesmith _did_ say the Cornucopia, didn't he? I'm sure of it. I wish they would hurry up and send up the damn supplies so I can kill Fire Girl already.

Mother and Dad are going to be so proud of me.

Just as this thought enters my mind, the ground in front of the Cornucopia splits in two, and a table – round, with white cloth – enters the clearing. There are four backpacks lying on the table. The one marked with the number _2_ is clearly ours – it's large and black. There's an identical one next to it, except that it's marked with the number _11_. There's also a green pack, this one marked with a _5_. And the orange backpack, of course, is marked with a _12_. I assume. It's tiny, so I can't be positive… but really, what other explanation is there?

The table clicks into place, and for a moment, no one moves.

And then someone flies out of the Cornucopia.

_No!_ For a moment, I think it's Fire Girl who's somehow managed to hide in the huge horn without Cato and I noticing – but then I realize it's just District Five.

_Damn it all,_ I think bitterly. _What the hell is this? When did she even get there? How did Cato and I not notice? _I suppose she must've waited until neither of us were looking… but… damn. I have to admit that must've taken some skill… and then she's disappearing into the woods. Oh, she's going to pay for this later. No one can get away with trying to trick us…

I snap back to the present when I see her. Fire Girl. Her long braid is swinging behind her, and she's clutching Glimmer's bow in her hand. Without hesitation, I step out from behind my tree completely and release one of my knives in her direction, aiming for her shoulder… I don't want to kill her just yet. I promised Cato.

Fire Girl deflects my knife with the bow and I growl in frustration, starting to run after her. And – SHIT!

I didn't even notice that the damn bow was loaded – but there's an arrow speeding directly towards my heart. I turn without thinking and the arrow pierces my left arm.

I gasp, and for a moment I'm completely blinded by pain. All I can think is _ow, ow, ow!_ Then I regain control over my thoughts and carefully remove the arrow. Thank God I throw knives with my right arm. I continue to run after Fire Girl, spurred on by fury _and_ pain.

She's at the table now, grabbing the orange backpack and slipping the strap around her arm. She turns to face me and looks as though she's about to fire another damn arrow at me when I release my second knife. This one catches her in the forehead.

_Yes!_ I think triumphantly. Blood is pouring down her face, and it looks absolutely disgusting – but that's the least of my worries. Fire Girl tries to shoot me again, but the arrow doesn't even come close to me.

I've reached her by this point – I slam into her and we both end up on the ground – I manage to position my knees on her shoulders so that she can't move at all. Suddenly, this isn't Fire Girl, who we've been plotting to kill for weeks, because how can someone so vulnerable be dangerous at all? No, this is just another pathetic tribute from District Twelve.

I grin at her. "Where's your boyfriend, District Twelve?" I ask her tauntingly. "Still hanging on?"

I can tell she's terrified, but she still tries to lie to me. "He's out there now," she says, glowering at me. "Hunting Cato." Then she releases a scream that nearly bursts my eardrums. "Peeta!"

Is Lover Boy really out there? No, surely not, but… I punch the stupid girl in the mouth, silencing her. While she struggles, I glance around just to be safe. Lover Boy is nowhere to be seen. Cato's fine, then.

I turn back to my victim and grin. "Liar. He's nearly dead." Something flashes in her eyes, and I know I'm right. He hasn't miraculously healed himself, then. "Cato knows where he cut him." So he says, anyway, but District Twelve needs to think that we're all knowing. "You've probably got him strapped up in some tree while you try to keep his heart going." This is probably true. It would fit with her personality. "What's in the pretty little backpack?" I ask, pretending to sound curious. "That medicine for Lover Boy? Too bad he'll never get it." Yes, too bad. Too bad he's not here to watch his girlfriend being tortured.

I unzip my jacket, making sure District Twelve can see all my knives. Might as well scare her in addition to the pain. Now… my eyes fall upon a small knife with a unique, curved blade. I carefully remove it from my jacket and grin at the girl that's struggling to escape me. "I promised Cato if he let me have you, I'd give the audience a good show," I inform her.

She's struggling more desperately now, but she's no match for me. Plus she's scared, which will only work in my favor.

"Forget it, District Twelve," I say softly. "We're going to kill you." Correction – _I'm_ going to kill her. Then I remember something that might hit a nerve. "Just like we did you're pathetic little ally… what was her name? The one who hopped around in the trees?" I flash back to our days in the Capitol. "Rue?" Yes, that must be it – I can tell by the way she's glaring at me.

Oh, but this is fun. "Well, first Rue, then you, and I think we'll just let nature take care of Lover Boy." Which won't take long, without medicine. "How does that sound?" I ask her. She doesn't reply, so I decide to begin already. I can feel the audience urging me to get on with it.

"Now, where to start?"

This will be the difficult part. What will be the most entertaining first step? I wipe the blood from her face with the sleeve of my jacket, observing her face, tilting it from side to side. Hmm… maybe I should carve a pattern into her skin. But what?

I'll have to start with something simpler than that – and District Twelve gives me the perfect idea when she tries to bite my hand. I grab her hair and force her back down, but I'm glowing inside from this new plan.

"I think…" I murmur. "I think we'll start with your mouth." Yes, it's perfect.

She closes her mouth tightly – stupid girl. That's not going to help in the slightest. Smirking, I carefully trace the outline of her lips using the tip of the knife blade.

"Yes," I say, thinking out loud, "I don't think you'll have much use for your lips anymore." She glares at me with those strange eyes – those will be next, then.

I'm not completely cruel, though. I give her an offer that I consider very kind. "Want to blow Lover Boy one last kiss?"

That's how I end up with my face covered in a disgusting mixture of District Twelve's blood and spit.

I'm overcome with rage for a moment. Fine. If that's how she'd like this to go, so be it. Let's not keep the audience waiting any longer. I glare at her furiously.

"All right then. Let's get started."

I start to make the first cut, and then I hear someone screaming and I think it might be me.

Because someone – or something – has lifted me off District Twelve and I'm trapped in its arms – I gasp and writhe around, trying to escape, but it's futile. Then the monster tosses me on the ground… and I see that it's Thresh.

And – he's shouting at me…

"What'd you do to that little girl? You kill her?"

I stay on my back and try to move away from him, knowing I should call for Cato. But I'm too stunned. Little girl – does he mean Little Eleven? Why should he care if she's dead? If I killed her – which I didn't! He would've had to, if it had come down to them!

All I manage to get out is, "No! No, it wasn't me!" I try to tell him that it was Marvel who killed his district partner, but the words get stuck in my throat.

He glowers at me. "You said her name." Why? Why did I do that? "I heard you. You kill her?" I shake my head frantically, but then Thresh's eyes widen and he starts shouting at me even more furiously. "You cut her up like you were going to cut up this girl here?"

I gape at him. Why does he care about either of them? "No! No, I – "

That's when I see the stone. A huge stone that scares me more than anything I've ever seen or heard before. But it does knock some sense into me.

"Cato!" I scream. "Cato!"

"Clove!" No. He's too far away.

He'll be too late.

Thresh raises the rock, ready to kill me, when it hits me.

I'm going to die. I'm going to die just like Elia Madd did two years ago. I'm going to die. How could this have gone so wrong? Just a moment ago I was about to begin the most important kill of these Games – and now I'm going to die. Why didn't Cato protect me? He was supposed to be hunting Thresh, but Thresh is _here_, about to kill me, and I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch a metallic glint – my necklace, the charm now dangling off the side of my neck. I remember, vividly, the night Maio gave it to me. The words he had engraved on it – _Clove Flair, 74__th__ Victor._

It'll never happen.

And the reality of my situation hits me all over again – I'm going to die. This time faces flash through my mind. Maio… he'll never design clothes for my victory tour. Dad will never be the same after I'm gone. Enobaria is going to be _so_ angry, and Yoh will be able to gloat over her lost tribute. That's all I am, now. Just another tribute, killed in the Hunger Games.

Mother is going to be so disappointed in me.

Thresh brings the rock down on my temple, hard, and I collapse. For a moment, the world fades to black.

_No,_ I protest weakly in my mind when my vision begins to return. _Make it stop. Please. I just want the pain to go away…_

There's a strange moaning noise coming from very close to me. I focus on it, trying to concentrate on anything but this intense pain in my head, when I realize it's me. I'm making that horrible noise.

Voices. I hear voices. Thresh. And Fire Girl. Yes, she's Fire Girl again. If she were nothing but a District Twelve tribute she would have died long ago.

Instead she as good as sentenced me to death by simply allying with that little girl.

_Little girl._ Cato was right. I am just a little girl. What was it I said before? "_Little girls end up dead in the arena."_ Something like that.

And I'm dying.

"Clove!"

Cato.

He's coming.

And it sounds like he's in pain.

I hear Thresh speak again, briefly. Then he and Fire Girl are gone.

"Clove," he whispers. "Clove. No. No, don't you dare die on me, Clove!" His voice is growing louder. "Please! Stay with me, Clove, don't die! Just hold on, in a few minutes they'll send medicine, don't die!"

"Cato," I say feebly. "Don't be an idiot."

He closes his eyes tightly and bows his head, not speaking.

"You have to win," I tell him.

"I'm going to," he swears. "Going to win for both of us now." He looks so determined, but at the same time so sad. He looks over at the woods, where Fire Girl must've gone.

"Don't go," I plead, reaching out to him. He can't leave me like this, when I'm about to die…

"Course not," Cato says quietly, taking my hand and gripping it tightly. "Staying right here." Then he looks at me. "Clove, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"Don't be," I say accusingly. "It's okay – "

"No!" he interrupts me. "It's not! You're dying, and it's all my fault! I didn't look hard enough for Thresh, I wasn't careful enough, and now…"

"Oh my God, Cato," I say, trying to tease him. "Are you… are you _crying?_"

He smiles half-heartedly. "Sorry."

"Don't," I repeat. "Just… win."

I know my time's almost up. My vision is starting to cloud, and the pain in my head is… fading, oddly. "I'll miss you," Cato whispers.

I give him a genuine smile. "I'll miss you too." It's true. Over the past few weeks, Cato has truly become my friend. "Bye, Cato. Don't forgot to win for us."

"Clove," he whispers, and I close my eyes.

Something very strange happens now. It's as if I'm floating out of my body – I can't feel anything anymore. That's good, because there's no pain. But I can see everything. I focus on one thing in particular. Looking down I can see Cato, still holding my hand, bent over my lifeless body. I smile sadly. I know he can win, and I won't be forgotten. He'll make sure of that.

And now… I know it's time to go, somehow. I'm just glad I got one last glimpse of my friend without having to block out that terrible pain in my head.

I close my eyes once again. Time to leave this place.

Somewhere in the distance, a cannon fires.

* * *

><p><strong>I almost cried writing this. ALMOST. :'( And I feel like such a nerd saying that. But killing her off... sucked. Rest in peace, Clove... *bawls eyes out*<strong>

**Anyway, this is not the end, people! There will be an epilogue. I'll post it in a couple days. Remember, it's your last chance to guess what it's going to be... ;) A couple things I have to say, now.**

**The first thing is that I start school tomorrow and I'm... dreading it, to say the least. But it would be super awesome if I woke up in the morning and had a bunch of reviews! It would make my day so much more bearable! :)**

**On a different but related topic, WE PASSED 100 REVIEWS! YOU ALL ARE AMAZING! I forgot to mention this in the last chapter (I seem to do that a lot...), but I actually remembered this time! :D Thank you so much!**

**The last thing I have to do is thank everybody who gave feedback on the Marvel fic idea. I really appreciate it, and I'll probably start posting it around the beginning of September (I'll need a little while to get back in the school routine). It might be sooner, though, if I don't want to wait. So keep an eye out. ;)**

**As always, review, please! And it's your last chance to guess what the epilogue is going to be... ;)**

**~What the Quell**


	21. Epilogue: Cruel

Epilogue: Cruel

She's so close.

To fame, fortune, everything she's ever wanted. Everything _I've _ever wanted for her. They're down to the final six already, and now that two tributes from the same district can win, there's no way she won't come home.

Just thinking about it, a rush of pride surges through me for my daughter.

"I don't know about this," Jabez whispers. "I'm worried about her, Lorcae."

"Don't be a fool," I scoff. "What are you afraid of?"

My husband closes his eyes and says, "Losing her."

I roll my eyes. As if. I turn back to the screen, which is focusing on Clove. She's hiding behind a tree, clutching a couple of knives, waiting for her feast to appear. The camera zooms out and finds Cato, her ally, creeping through the trees on the opposite side of the clearing.

I truly can't believe how far my daughter has come – she's proven herself to be everything I've always hoped for. Her kills have been marvelous, she's so smart and brave, and I don't think she's ever missed a shot with those knives of hers.

"I'll kill myself if she dies," Jabez says quietly. "I really will."

He's been saying things like this ever since the reaping. _"I don't want to live without my daughter." "If someone kills her, I'm going to find a shotgun and shoot myself through the heart." "What will we do without her, Lorcae? I'd rather be dead!"_

Why did I marry him? He's weak.

I turn my full attention back to the screen, watching as the table rises from the ground, watching the small redheaded girl run from the Cornucopia and snatch her backpack, disappearing quickly. I watch Clove's face carefully, and irritation is plain to see in her sharp features. I know my daughter, and the stupid girl from Five has already escaped her once. Clove is furious that it's happening again. But there are more important things to attend to now.

I watch the irritation turn to vicious pleasure as the one she's nicknamed _Fire Girl_ appears. "Good girl," I mutter to myself as she tosses a knife in Fire Girl's direction, and then I sniff in annoyance when it's blocked.

"This is shameful," I say to Jabez. "She's from District _Twelve,_ dammit. Why is she so hard to kill?"

He just shakes his head. "She'll kill her," he insists, sounding as though he's trying to convince himself more so than me. "She has to." And then he screams when the arrow pierces Clove's arm.

"No!" he wails. "She's hurt, she's going to die, no no no no no…"

"Shup up," I snarl. What's the matter with him? "It's just a stupid arrow! She'll be fine!"

I squint at the screen, and Clove's knife slices Fire Girl's forehead open. "Yes!" I crow, thrusting my fist in the air. This is as good as over. Clove slams into her opponent, and I turn to Jabez. "Told you," I gloat.

He groans. "This isn't over yet…"

"Oh, go to hell, why don't you?" I snap. "What could go wrong at this point?" He just shakes his head fearfully.

Fuming, I turn back to the screen, determined to give my daughter my full attention. She's the one who deserves it right now. "Where's your boyfriend, District Twelve?" I hear her ask. "Still hanging on?"

The cameras flash over to a shot of _Lover Boy,_ as Clove and Cato have taken to calling him. He's asleep, having been drugged by his pathetic girlfriend a few hours ago.

"He's out there now," Fire Girl spits, the cameras returning to the action. "Hunting Cato. Peeta!"

_Nice punch,_ I think as Clove cuts off her victim's scream with her fist. Strange… she looks amused by all this. _Atta girl._ No one will dare mess with her after she's finished here.

I ignore what they're saying for a few moments and just watch. Clove has an almost manic look in her eyes, and I know what she must be feeling. I remember it well. The arena changes you… but in both our cases, mine and my daughter's, I believe it's for the better.

Clove's hair is wild – it's a strange sight, since she always kept it so well tamed back home. Her eyes are bright with the thrill of finally having her biggest opponent at her mercy. She smiles tightly, drawing a knife and displaying it to the so-called Girl on Fire, as the Capitol people have named her.

Well, that flame will soon be extinguished.

Clove. I'm awestruck by how _brilliantly_ she plays this. Taunting Fire Girl about her ally, the little girl that boy killed, reminding her subtly that her boyfriend will die shortly after she does… my daughter's a genius in the making.

And then Fire Girl spits in Clove's face.

"Shit," Jabez mutters. I'm surprised, as he almost never uses profanity. But I can understand it. Our Clove has… quite the temper. She's easily provoked. So I'm surprised when she lets it pass after anger flashes across her face after only a second.

"All right then. Let's get started."

"Finally," I grin. Jabez suddenly looks horrified.

"No!" he gasps.

"What is it?" I ask in annoyance. Jabez's eyes are widening in terror and he points wordlessly at the screen. The camera has zoomed out to capture the whole clearing – before, it was focusing on Clove and Fire Girl, but now –

"It's Thresh," I gasp, suddenly terrified.

The huge tribute apparently managed to lumber over to the table with the backpacks without Clove _or_ Cato noticing – but instead of leaving, he's turning to Clove and plucking her off Fire Girl, and throwing her, and shouting –

"What'd you do to that little girl? You kill her?"

I look back at Clove, who's now lying helplessly on the ground. "No! No, it wasn't me!"

Jabez is sobbing! "No! It wasn't her, why are you hurting her?"

"Shut up," I hiss. I need to focus.

"You said her name. I heard you." A strange expression crosses Clove's face. "You kill her? You cut her up like you were going to cut up this girl here?"

"Don't you dare kill my daughter, you _bastard,_" I growl at the television. She didn't killed Rue, dammit! _That_ killer is dead already!

I see the stone, then. Right there, in his hand. It's huge, and there's no way Clove's going to be able to escape. I shake my head slowly. How could this have happened so quickly?

I watch the screen dully as Clove sees the stone too, and screams for her ally, who doesn't appear. He yells back, yes, but he's too slow.

Thresh bashes my daughter's head in.

Jabez jumps up from the couch we've been sitting on. "Where are you going?" I ask sharply.

"To find a shotgun," he whispers brokenly. Tears are pouring down his face.

My husband is weak. And now it turns out that my daughter is, too.

I force myself to look back at the screen. I don't listen to Fire Girl and Thresh talking, or Cato running towards the whole scene. I just look at Clove, lying there.

I just… don't understand. How could she… lose? Because there's no way she can recover from this. She told me she would win. She promised. This has been her _dream_ since she learned what the Hunger Games were, and now… it's all over. She's dying. She'll never come home. And my husband is off trying to kill himself… Clove _and_ Jabez are lost.

I shake my head again, to clear the bad thoughts. But I know they'll never really go away. Not after this.

Cato has arrived, and Fire Girl and Thresh have disappeared. But I can't make myself watch my daughter's last moments. I just can't.

She failed me. She lost to a _rock_.

I rise and turn away from the screen, walking away.

Pain will come later.

But for now, there is only disappointment.

* * *

><p><strong>Well... there it is, people! We're all done! I'm going to warn you in advance... this is going to be a pretty long author's note. There's a lot to say... ;)<strong>

**First off, I'll explain the epilogue. Obviously, it was Clove's parents watching her die on television, from her mother's POV... neelyn8r came up with the idea and I thought it was genius, so here it is. :) Clove's parents' names actually MEAN something, can you believe it? I actually bothered to find names that fit. Anyway, Jabez (her father) means sorrow and regret, and Lorcae (her mother) is based off the name Lorcan, which means cruel and fierce. The epilogue was harder to write than I thought... but really fun anyway. I'd been planning out the last few lines for about a month. xD**

**Next, something I forgot to mention in the last author's note (yes, yes, I'm terrible). I'm surprised no one seemed to notice, actually, but when Clove was dying and Cato was with her, they exchanged a few lines that were exactly what Katniss and Rue said when Rue was dying. Because I am a twisted person like that, I decided it would be interesting to write it that way... ;)**

**Now, I have to give credit to all the wonderful people out there who have reviewed, favorited, and/or subscribed to Winning is Everything. Okay, here comes the list: neelyn8r, DiceAndBishop, turboaddict, Ellfoy-Malana, The Plaid Pen, Sassyswimchick, chillyM, lacrossefreak100, InkConquerer, ForeverFoxface, Turq8, CH, RemiccoLim, EStrunk, XxThresh-HungerGamesxX, RedRubyStorm, IHaveMattTheDoctor, Webby955, powapuffer, UnofficiallyClove, Dogs1954, Mpham6, Squirrel, Kgirl235, ShanDaMan, Call Me Bitter, D, Well, Foxxface, sugarcoated, FloridaGirl11, TheHungerGamesbeast, clove and cato 101, Starsmith, Seulement Moi CL, jennh07, Century Archive, AshmarieMockingjay, SilvertongueCain, Twenty-two Doves, Fangalicious, squirrelflightbc, Anonymous Reviewer, StoriesOfAnotherNight, allyssa, Janie Black, Hawttcakeyz, WickedGleek96, thebookreader, Anonymous Reviewer, Jill Slinkard, and TheEditor.**

**Wow. Long list!**

**The last thing I have to do is thank a couple people especially. First is my awesome editor who has edited this entire story for me. She's on the list as both Sassyswimchick and TheEditor. :) Also, neelyn8r has given me a ton of ideas for this story, and she's done some editing on the last few chapters as well. So thanks so much to them! :D Thanks also to turboaddict and Squirrel... I know it's a pain to be around a writer all the time. Also, they've reviewed! xD**

**Well... I guess that's it. I've had a great time writing Winning is Everything and getting feedback... one more time, THANK YOU! :D**

**And I'd love to hear what you thought about the epilogue, of course, so if you'd like to review one more time... that would be awesome. :) The reviews for the last chapter made starting school again MUCH more bearable!**

**If you're interested in reading the Marvel fic I've mentioned, start looking for it in about a month... hopefully I'll have it posted. :D Thanks again, everybody! :)**

**~What the Quell**


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